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SEVEN 

CHRISTMAS CANDLES 




Hoses of 

St. dijoficti) Series 


Each i vol., small quarto, illustrated and deco- 
rated in color. « $1.00 


The Roses of Saint Elizabeth 

By JANE SCOTT WOODRUFF 

Gabriel and the Hour Book 

By EVALEEN STEIN 

The Enchanted Automobile 

Translated from the French by 
MARY J. SAFFORD 

Pussy-Cat Town 

By MARION AMES TAGGART 

O-Heart-San 

By HELEN EGGLESTON HASKELL 

Carlota 

Seven Christmas Candles 

By FRANCES MARGARET FOX 


L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 

New England Building BOSTON, MASS. 








































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% 





































































































































































W HAT IS THE MATTER ? PIGGY 
DEAR, TELL HANNAH’” 

{See page j6) 



# 







Copyright , 1909 , by 
i. C. PACK & COMPANY 
( Incorporated ) 


All rights reserved 

First Impression, October, 1909 


e- 

? 4 8 92 1 


zgo?r 




To 

Htt Cberett Jostfpn, 3Tr. 

And his Little Brother 

&lan 

The first children who ever heard 
of Stubbins Mulvaney 
and his folks 






% 


. 















s. 


* 














CONTENTS 


CHAPTER page 


I 

The Little Girl who Changed 



her Name 

i 

II 

Chinkey*s Trick 

I 2 

III 

Stubbins Has an Idea .... 

l 9 

IV 

Mrs. Mulvaney’s Slipper . 

28 

V 

Molly Hodgkins Goes to Town . 

36 

VI 

Running the Gauntlet .... 

44 

VII 

By the Light of Stubbins* Candle 

52 

VIII 

The Alley Orphan 

60 

IX 

Hannah Mulvaney Came Home . 

68 

X 

A Candle Shines for Piggy Williams 

78 

XI 

The Accident 

85 

XII 

Cousin Marguerite 

95 

XIII 

Mrs. Mulvaney* s Trained Nurse 

106 

XIV 

The Twins Light their Candles 

115 

XV 

Chinkey Goes to Town . 

125 

XVI 

A Dim Candle in the Valley of 



the Shadow 

*33 

XVII 

Aunt Mandy 

H 4 

XVIII 

Mike and Johnnie Draw Cuts 

1 54 

XIX 

Preparations for Christmas . . 

164 

XX 

A List for Saint Nicholas . 

173 

XXI 

By the Light of Seven Candles . 

178 








ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

f< * What is the matter ? Piggy dear, 

tell Hannah ’ ” (See page 56) Frontispiece 

“ * Ith no fun to try to make a nithe, 

polite pig out of you ’ ” . . . . 20 

“ In a big rocking-chair Stubbins and the 

alley orphan were making merry ” . 63 

“ At the garden gate the seven were 

welcomed by a stranger’ * . . . 102 

“ Snowy blooms drifted downward” . 140 

The arrival of Sloppy Weather . . . 160 


/I 












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SEVEN CHRISTMAS 
CANDLES 


CHAPTER I 

THE LITTLE GIRL WHO CHANGED 
HER NAME 

H annah mulvaney 

didn’t like her name. It 
reminded her of days gone by 
when she was a little poor girl in 
the city. The child closed her 
eyes, and bit by bit recalled every 
nook and corner of the alley where 
she was born. On one side was 
a high board fence, so high not 
a child in the neighborhood ever 
climbed to the top. Those poor 

i i 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


children! Hannah shivered as 
she thought how cold they were 
in winter, and sighed, remember- 
ing the heat of summer. 

Birds were singing around her, 
and the air was sweet with perfume 
of apple blossoms ; but Hannah 
Mulvaney was once more the thin, 
ragged little girl of the alley. She 
was the oldest Mulvaney child. 
Then came Chinkey, red-headed 
and freckled, no better, no worse 
than other neglected boys of his 
age. Next were the twins, Nora 
and Dora, who seemed to do noth- 
ing in those days but look scared. 
Johnnie of the mournful face and 
big blue eyes was fifth in line. 
After him came Mike, who was 
always in mischief. Stubbins was 
the baby. 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“And how we used to quarrel!” 
thought Hannah. “ But,” she rea- 
soned aloud, “ I believe seven min- 
isters would get into a fight if they 
were cooped up in one horrid little 
room the way we were, when Ma 
washed and washed for a living 
winter days in the kitchen. And 
wasn’t Ma cross!” 

As for Mr. Patrick Mulvaney, 
Hannah knew that after he died 
seven children no longer dreaded 
the home-coming of their father. 
That the man was a drunkard, 
the child never understood. 

Until Sally Brown, her brother 
Alfred, and their mother moved 
into the alley, neither Hannah nor 
Chinkey dreamed of green fields 
and a wide, blue sky. Sally told 
them all she knew of the country, 

3 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


and from that hour the Mulvaney 
children dreamed of better things. 

“Christmas,” observed Hannah, 
sitting straight and addressing her 
remarks to a robin, “Christmas is 
our lucky day. That wonderful 
first Christmas was the beginning ; 
after that the Browns moved into 
the country and sent for us. Last 
Christmas Ma got married and 
now she is Mrs. Hodgkins and 
we are rich. Everything is beau- 
tiful except my name.” 

The robin on the fence perked 
her head one side and looked in- 
terested. 

“ I wish I could change my 
name,” the child continued. “It’s 
discouraging to be Hannah Mul- 
vaney. If Ma is Mrs. Hodgkins, 
I should think we would be the 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Hodgkins children. Hannah 
Hodgkins; that won’t do, — the 
boys would call me Han Hod. 
Hannah Mulvaney Hodgkins — 
Hannah M. Hodgkins — M. 
Hodgkins and leave off the Han- 
nah. M. M. Why, M. stands 
for Molly! I’m Molly Hodg- 
kins! Hannah Mulvaney be- 
longed in the alley, but Molly 
Hodgkins lives in a beautiful home 
in the country. Good-bye, Hannah 
Mulvaney, and good riddance to 
you ! ” 

Perhaps robin looked doubtful ; 
anyway, the little girl who did n’t 
like her name called over her shoul- 
der as she left the orchard : 

“I am, too, Molly Hodgkins!” 

“ N o,you ’re not ; no, you ’re not,” 
sang the robin. 

s 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


It is a fact that Molly Hodg- 
kins put on airs. When she helped 
her mother get supper, she objected 
to washing radishes. 

“They’re so dirty,” grumbled 
Molly. 

After supper she made up a face 
at the dish-pan. “ I don’t like to 
wash dishes,” she whispered, “I 
don’t like the smell of dish-water.” 

“ Hurry up, Han,” urged Chin- 
key; “if you ’ll hustle we won’t 
go after the cows until you ’re 
ready.” 

“Cows!” sniffed Molly Hodg- 
kins. “Don’t wait for me; the 
twins may go with you instead of 
staying to wipe dishes. I wish to 
think.” 

“ She wishes to think ! ” mocked 
Chinkey. “ What next ! ” 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Molly Hodgkins was sure the 
boys said something about her 
to make the children laugh, they 
shouted so joyously trooping down 
the lane. 

“ Hannah,” said her mother, 
“take that pan of apples to the 
pigs — the one on the pantry shelf. 
Start your boots,” she added, as 
the child hesitated. 

Molly Hodgkins feeding pigs ! 
That was too much. Hannah 
Mulvaney was an accommodating 
little girl, ready to help any one; 
but Molly Hodgkins felt indig- 
nant when told to toss a pan of 
apples over a fence to the pigs. 

“ I should think Ma ’d keep a 
hired girl,” grumbled Miss Molly. 

When the work in the kitchen 
was done, Molly Hodgkins hung 

7 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


up her apron and went outside to 
sit in the hammock and dream of 
her future. She would go to col- 
lege. She would go to parties 
and fan herself slowly with an os- 
trich feather fan, just as Judge 
Belding’s daughter did in church. 
She would wear a pink silk dress 
and white satin slippers to the 
grocery mornings. Possibly — 

“ Hannah,” interrupted Mike, 
“come over to the teeter. You 
sit on one end and me and 
Johnnie ’ll sit on the other.” 

“Johnnie and I,” corrected 
Molly Hodgkins. 

“ Well, are you coming ? ” de- 
manded the small brother. 

“No, I ’m never going to teeter 
any more,” was the reply. 

“Then let’s roll down hill,” 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Chinkey suggested. “ I ’ll beat you 
all to the bottom. Come on, 
Hannah.” 

To be sure, the children didn’t 
know that Hannah wasn’t in the 
hammock and that they were ad- 
dressing the dignified Miss Molly 
Hodgkins. 

“Will you have a race?” con- 
tinued Chinkey. 

“No,” replied Molly. 

“ Will you climb in the hay-rack 
and we ’ll all play rooster — see 
who can crow the loudest ? ” 

“ I should say not ! ” was the 
answer. “ You children run away 
and play by yourselves. I would 
rather sit still.” 

“What ailth Hannah!” Stub- 
bins exclaimed. “ I geth I ’ll have 
to go and drop a toad in her neck. 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


That girl thith there with her nothe 
in the air. Thomebody help me 
find a big, soft toad.” 

Five children joined Stubbins 
in the search for the big, soft toad. 
Mike found him. “ Now don’t let 
her scare the poor toad,” he cau- 
tioned, as Stubbins ran toward the 
hammock. 

“ Hannah, I want to whithper 
thomething to you,” began Stub- 
bins. 

Molly Hodgkins bent her head, 
two plump arms stole round her 
neck, while the big, soft toad 
dropped down her back. 

“ Why, thay ! ” explained Stub- 
bins, as shriek upon shriek arose 
from the hammock. “ Why, thay, 
Han, how you act! Thath nothing 
but a toad ! ” 


IO 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


The entire family soon gathered 
around Hannah. 

“It’s right next to my skin!” 
she screamed. “Oh, Ma, hurry! 
Unbutton my clothes quick ! ” 

The toad was badly frightened. 
When he hopped away, Johnnie 
was the only little Mulvaney left 
to face his mother. The child was 
laughing so hard he forgot to run. 

“ That ’s a nice trick to play on 
your sister,” began Mrs. Mulvaney 
Hodgkins, seizing the boy and tak- 
ing him across her knee. “You’ll 
get the spanking you deserve, too.” 

“ But I did n’t do it,” protested 
Johnnie. “Ask Hannah!” But 
Hannah was in her bedroom re- 
minding herself that her name was 
Molly Hodgkins. 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER II 


CHINICEY’S TRICK 

HE little Mulvaneys missed 



1 Hannah. Molly Hodgkins 
obeyed her mother and helped with 
household tasks as usual, but she 
wouldn’t play with the children. 
Molly Hodgkins sliding down a 
strawstack! It was an absurd 
idea. 

“ Why, Chinkey Mulvaney ! ” ex- 
claimed the big sister. “ Indeed, 
I ’ll not slide down the strsiwstack ! 
Do you suppose I ’m a tomboy ? ” 

“Will you build a dam in the 
brook then?” 

“ Get all muddy ? No, sir.” 


12 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“You and the twins can sail 
boats, and Mike and Johnnie ’ll 
help me build the dam.” 

“No, I don’t want to sail boats.” 

“ Well, what do you want to do ?” 
Chinkey’s tones were savage. 

The child stuck her toes in the 
sand and considered a minute. 
She was n’t at all sure what Molly 
Hodgkins would enjoy. For a 
brief instant Hannah Mulvaney 
returned, and, grinning from ear 
to ear, made this admission : “I 
don’t know.” 

“Well, then,” Chinkey suggested, 
“you little fellers all stand back 
and Han and me ’ll show you a 
trick. Now, Hannah, you see that 
tool shed ? ” 

“ Y es, I ’m not blind,” replied 
Molly Hodgkins. 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ Well, I 'll dare you to jump 
from the low side to the 
ground-” 

“ You need n’t think I II do 
that" was the reply. 

“ You dass n’t" sniffed Chinkev. 

“ I could do it if I wanted to," 
returned Molly Hodgkins. " bet 
it’s so silly." 

" Silly, is it ? * urged Chink ev — 
“ I tell you. it ’s a problem. I k£ 
like to know which would git to 
the ground first from ----- there 
roof, a boy or a girl You d nat- 
urally think a boy would bemuse 
he can jump better." 

“ That 's not sod objected Miss 
Molly, irritated by the wav in 
which C dinkey squinted his eves 
in measuring the distance :rom 
the low side of the roof to the 

*4 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


ground. “ I believe a girl could 
outjump a boy any day!” 

“You do, do you? why don’t 
you try it then? ’Fraid, ain’t 
you ? ” 

A look of scorn from Miss 
Hodgkins should have withered 
Chinkey, but it only made him 
laugh. 

“’Fraid cat,” he taunted. 

Mike, Johnnie, and the twins 
came in on the chorus, “’Fraid cat, 
’fraid cat, ’fraid cat.” Stubbins 
was in the orchard trying to teach 
a white pig to shake hands, or he 
would have joined in the song. 

“ I ’m not a ’fraid cat, any such 
thing,” the big sister declared. “ I ’ll 
show you. Come along, Chinkey ; 
I ’ll beat you climbing to the top 
of the shed.” She did it, too. 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ N ow then, ladies and gentle- 
men,” Chinkey began, “you are 
about to witnessify one of the won- 
derfulest — wonderfulest — well, 
you’re going to see a girl jump. 
You’re about to see a girl git to 
the ground before a boy.” 

As he talked, Chinkey walked 
cautiously to the edge of the roof. 
“ N ow I say,” he continued, “ that 
a boy is a better jumper than a girl, 
but — ” 

“ Oh, stop talking, Chinkey,” in- 
terrupted the girl, “ and it is n’t fair 
to get so close to the edge, either.” 

Molly Hodgkins did n’t like the 
idea of jumping from that roof. 
Her knees were beginning to shake, 
and her teeth chattered. She 
knew, though, that there is only 
one way to get along with a boy, 

J6 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


— never, never show the white 
feather. Always be ready to ac- 
cept a dare; if possible, beat him 
at his own game. Chinkey must 
respect Molly Hodgkins, and, al- 
though Molly Hodgkins shivered 
at the thought of jumping from 
that roof, it must be done without 
the quiver of an eyelash. 

“Are you ready?” demanded the 
little girl who waited. 

“All ready,” agreed Chinky, 
“and the audience, Madam, gets 
restless. Now then, ladies and 
gentlemen, I ’ll count three and 
we’ll swing our arms. When I 
say three, Han, remember that’s 
the time to jump.” 

Hannah remembered ; Molly 
Hodgkins remembered. 

“One,” began Chinkey, “two,” 

a 17 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


he swung his arms a little more 
vigorously, “THREE!” 

The little girl jumped. Chinkey 
jumped too, but, to the delight of 
the audience, his jump resembled 
a war dance on the roof. “ Say, 
Han,” he called, bending over and 
watching his sister get up, “ I told 
you I thought a girl would get to 
the ground before a boy. Want 
to come up here and try it again, 
hey?” 

“Smarty!” Having thus ex- 
pressed herself, Molly Hodgkins 
walked away with her head in the 
air. Peals of laughter followed 
her retreat. 


18 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER III 

STUBBINS HAS AN IDEA 

S TRAIGHT to the orchard 
went Molly Hodgkins, for- 
getful of Stubbins. Throwing 
herself upon the grass under her 
favorite tree, she cried and cried 
until she couldn’t cry any more, 
although she tried to think of sad 
things. Her handkerchief was 
wet with tears, — a fact so pleas- 
antly mournful Miss Molly looked 
the least bit happy as she spread 
it on the grass to dry. It was a 
relief to be away from such rough, 
noisy children. They were n’t the 
right kind of playmates for the 
daughter of Welcome Hodgkins. 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Molly suddenly realized that she 
was n’t alone in the orchard. 

“Thaketh alive! Ith no fun 
to try to make a nithe, polite pig 
out of you. I thay all you know 
enough to do ith to eat and thqueal ! 
You can ith thay here or you can 
come with me, but I ’ll tell the retht 
of the pigth that you don’t know 
anything, thath what ! ” 

The pig decided to follow Stub- 
bins, and trotted along close behind. 
That was funny enough to make 
any little girl smile, but when Stub- 
bins began to sing “You in your 
small corner and I in mine,” his 
sister laughed aloud. Sally Brown 
had taught him the song. 

“ I alwayth thing the firtht line in 
my mind,” was the way Stubbins 

explained the fact that he never 
20 



« ‘ TTH NO FUN TO TRY TO MAKE A 
1 NITHE, POLITE PIG OUT OF YOU’” 


mS Bi 






















- 












SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


sang it aloud. Truth to tell, there 
were two words in that first line, 
“Jesus bids us shine with a clear, 
pure light,” that Stubbins could n’t 
pronounce. He was sensible then 
to begin on the second. 

“ ‘ Like a little candle burning in the night, 

In thith world of darkneth we mutht ’ — light 
our candleth.” 

Stubbins would n’t try to say 
“ shine.” 

“‘You in your thmall corner and I in mine.’” 

Neither would Stubbins attempt 
the line, 

“Jesus bids us shine first of all for him,” 

but he came in loud and clear on 

“‘Well he theeth and knowth it if our light ith 
dim, 

He lookth down from Heaven to thee uth ’ — 
light our candleth, 

4 You in your thmall corner and I in mine.*” 
21 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ You here, Han ? ” asked Stub- 
bins, when he discovered Hannah 
in the grass. “ Do you th’pothe 
you could make thith pig learn 
trickth ? I can’t theem to do it.” 

Molly Hodgkins refused to 
train a pig. Stubbins looked 
disappointed. 

“ Ith a nithe pig,” he ventured. 

“ Oh, the pig is all right,” Molly 
replied. “ Why do you want to 
teach the pig to do tricks ? ” 

“ Tho I can thell it to a thir- 
cuth,” was the answer. 

“ Oh ! ” Molly observed. 

“Thay, Han,” Stubbins went 
on, “ when you thing thongth, 
do you ever think what you’re 
thinging ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” was the response. 

“ Did n’t you hear me singing, ‘ I 
22 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


want to be an angel,’ out in the 
hammock this morning?” 

“Yeth, I did, and I thaid then 
that you ought to be in your thmall 
corner inthtead of that.” 

Molly Hodgkins in a small cor- 
ner; but, of course, a little fellow 
like Stubbins could n’t be expected 
to understand that while a small 
corner might do for Hannah Mul- 
vaney, Molly Hodgkins needed 
room. 

“I thay,” Stubbins continued, 
“ that I ’d like to be a little candle, 
— do you know why ? Thay, pig, 
keep your nothe out of my pocket. 
I don’t keep thingth to eat in my 
pocketh becauthe if ith thomething 
I like, I eat it mythelf, and if ith 
thomething you like you get it be- 
fore I put it in my pocketh. You 
23 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


don’t theem to have any thenthe. 
Hannah, what do you think of 
when you think of a candle ? ” 

“ Why, of a candle, of course.” 

“ Geth again. Thomething can- 
dleth are uthed for.” 

“To light after you get to 
bed at night and remember to 
wonder if you put the cat out 
and — ” 

“ Aw,” interrupted Stubbins, 
“ you are tho thupid. Candleth 
make you think of Chrithmath 
treeth. Now lithen; I’m going 
to thay a piethe a boy gave me. 
Hith name ith Lee, and what he 
gave me wath prettier than any 
Chrithmath card I ever thaw. He 
printed it himthelf with gold print- 
ing, and thith ith the beginning 
of it: 


24 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


‘ The whole world ith a Chrithmath tree 
And ith many tharth ith candleth be/ 

tho, Hannah Mulvaney, we mutht 
be the candleth in the worldth 
Chrithmath treeth inthtead of the 
tharth. I ’m a little candle, all 
of uth may be little candleth. 
What do you think about it ? 
Theven candleth, that would be 
nithe.” 

“It would be nice,” agreed the 
big sister. “ I think Sally Brown 
must have been a candle in the 
world’s Christmas tree the way she 
lighted up our alley.” 

“ Then that thettleth it,” Stub- 
bins declared. “We’re candleth, 
every one of uth. Well, I mutht 
go. I want to thee a bat athleep 
in the daytime. I almotht forgot 
about it.” 


25 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ ‘ You in your thmall corner and 
I in mine/” sang Stubbins, as he 
trudged across the orchard, little 
dreaming how far his candle light 
would shine. 


26 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER IV 


MRS. MULVANEY’S SLIPPER 

S days passed, Molly Hodg- 



rv kins grew more dissatisfied. 
She was ashamed of her mother 
and annoyed by the brothers and 
sisters. Mother never looked 
pretty; she would twist her hair 
in a tight knot in the back just as 
she did in the old days. Then, too, 
Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins would 
wear aprons. Mornings, the aprons 
were brown checked gingham, more 
or less faded; afternoons, clean 
black and white print with no frills 
were her specialty. 

“If Ma will wear aprons,” argued 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


the small daughter, “it would n’t 
be so bad if she would have pink 
gingham ones like Mrs. Randall, 
all worked with white cross stitches, 
or pretty white ones with lace trim- 
ming on the ruffles like Mrs. 
Brown’s. Anyway, aprons really 
belong to poor folks, and I don’t 
see why Ma will wear them. I 
am afraid Ma hasn’t any style.” 

However badly the child felt 
about her mother’s appearance, she 
kept her thoughts to herself, well 
knowing that disrespectful little 
Mulvaneys were always spanked. 

“It seems to me,” Miss Molly 
confided to the cat, “it seems to 
me that I don’t belong to Ma and 
these young ones. I would n’t be 
surprised if I ’m adopted. I am 
not like the rest of the family. I ’m 
28 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


more like Pa Hodgkins. I can 
see such a difference. Maybe 
now I belonged to a rich family 
in the city and I got lost. Maybe 
Pa Mulvaney found me when I 
was a wee baby and could n’t find 
my way home. More I think about 
it more I feel sure it is so. Mr. 
and Mrs. Mulvaney were poor; 
perhaps they thought they would 
keep me for ransom money. That 
Randall boy was telling about 
stealing children for ransom money 
the other night, and I can see how 
easy it would be.” 

Hannah Mulvaney had been 
delighted when it was no longer 
necessary to go about in rags ; but 
Molly Hodgkins, daughter of a 
prosperous farmer, objected to her 
raiment. The girls she saw on the 

29 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


streets of the village wore prettier 
dresses and they never went bare- 
footed. 

One day Sally Brown visited 
the Mulvaneys ; her mother was 
sewing for a neighbor of Mrs. 
Mulvaney Hodgkins. Sally wore 
a blue plaid gingham dress that 
resembled silk. On top of her 
head perched a bow that reminded 
Miss Molly of a big white butter- 
fly. Her shoes and stockings were 
new. Instead of a sunbonnet, 
Sally wore an embroidered white 
linen hat. To be sure, the child 
took off her shoes and stockings 
that she might wade in the brook 
with Chinkey, and, laughing, ac- 
cepted Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins’ 
old red sunbonnet to play in. 

When Sally went away that 
30 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


night, Molly Hodgkins said to her 
mother, “ Do you see how pretty 
she looks walking down the road ?” 

“ She was always a child to look 
sweet,” admitted Mrs. Mulvaney 
Hodgkins. “ I ain’t apt to forget 
when we first saw that little face.” 

“ But, Ma, it ’s her clothes,” 
Molly explained. “ I don’t see 
why I can’t have pretty clothes 
like other girls.” 

It really wasn’t safe to talk in 
that fashion to the mother of the 
little Mulvaneys. Molly prepared 
to dodge. To the child’s surprise 
the woman looked half sadly upon 
her oldest daughter without lifting 
her hand or making the familiar 
warning sound with her slipper. 

“ Hannah,” said she, “you ain’t 
the little girl I thought you was.” 

31 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


The child felt that that was not 
the proper time to say a word about 
Molly Hodgkins. “Well,” she 
ventured, “ I guess I like pretty 
things, and I don’t see why I can’t 
have a lot of pink and blue and 
white dresses like other girls.” 

“What other girls ?” 

“ The girls in town and Sally — 
and Judge Belding’s little girl.” 

“Why, Hannah, you’ve got a 
white dress.” 

“Yes, just for Sundays.” 

The slipper made a faint protest. 
“You ought to be spanked,” 
threatened Mrs. Mulvaney. “ I’d 
enjoy takin’ you across my knee 
for sech talk.” 

Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins 
thought rapidly for a moment. 

She recalled a recent conversation 
32 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


with Mrs. Randall. That good 
woman didn’t believe in frequent 
spankings. “It is better,” she ad- 
vised, “to appeal oftener to a child’s 
conscience and reason.” 

“Now then, Hannah,” argued 
her mother, keeping in mind other 
suggestions from Mrs. Randall 
about trying to awaken a child’s 
better nature, — “ now then, you’ve 
got six brothers and sisters. It 
costs a good deal of money to buy 
clothes for seven grown children. 
If you was my only child, I could 
dress you like a queen every day. 
Most little girls you see all togged 
up ain’t got any brothers and sis- 
ters. Now, would you rather be 
the only child and have fine clothes, 
or would you rather share up with 
six brothers and sisters? Would 

3 33 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


you trade off Chinkey and the 
twins and Johnnie and Mike 
and Stubbins for silks and 
satins ? ” 

“Yes,” was the faint response. 

That was too much for Mrs. 
Mulvaney, too much for the uneasy 
slipper. “ Spanking ’s what you 
need,” decided that mother of 
seven, “and spanking’s what 
you’ll get.” 

“Now then,” inquired Mrs. 
Mulvaney, replacing her slipper 
after the ceremony and giving 
Hannah an additional shake, “now 
what do you think ? Would you 
trade your brothers and sisters for 
fine clothes?” 

“ N o, ma’am.” 

“Will you ever find fault with 
your clothes again?” 

34 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“No, ma’am.” 

“ Then go ’long and behave 
yourself. Maybe some folks can 
bring their young ones up on talk, 
but give me my slipper.” 


35 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER V 


MOLLY HODGKINS GOES TO 
TOWN 


^TER all,” Molly Hodg- 



kins told herself the next 


morning, “ I do own clothes enough 
to make those children I used to 
play with stare. What would 
Piggy Williams think if he could 
see me go sailing down the alley in 
my Sunday clothes and blue sash ? 
I d make him whistle. I wonder 
what Sloppy Wether would say?” 

“‘You in your thmall corner, 
and I in mine,’” sang Stubbins. 
He was still trying to teach the 
pig to do tricks. 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Molly smiled. “ That’s so,” she 
continued. “Stubbins and I are 
little candles. I almost forgot. I 
wish I could light mine and take 
a walk down our old alley. I 
would n’t speak to anybody there, 
because of course I ’m not Hannah 
Mulvaney any more. Being Molly 
Hodgkins has n’t been much fun 
so far, but if I could go to the city 
would n’t I put for that alley like 
a duck going to a pond — only 
I’d be a swan when I got 
there.” 

Welcome Hodgkins had busi- 
ness in the city the next day. He 
invited Hannah to go with him. 
Molly accepted the invitation. 

“You may wear your white 
dress,” said her mother. 

“And sash?” ventured Molly. 

37 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Receiving no reply, the little girl 
decided not to repeat the question. 
“Glad Ma didn’t hear,” she 
thought. 

Some one waited impatiently at 
the gate for Welcome Hodgkins 
when he drove from the barn. She 
was dressed in her white gown 
and Sunday hat trimmed with 
pink roses. No one who saw her 
standing so sweetly at the gate 
dreamed that tucked under that 
Sunday hat was the big blue sash, 
and that hidden deep in the child’s 
heart were unkind, cruel thoughts. 
Molly Hodgkins intended to pa- 
rade up and down the alley where 
she was born, without a smile or 
bow. 

“Won’t they stare?” she 
chuckled. “Dear me, I wish 

38 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Stubbins would stop singing that 
candle song. Wonder where he 
is ?” 

A moment later Molly saw her 
brother. He, too, was dressed in 
his best. His face had been 
scrubbed until it shone like a door- 
knob, and he was sitting on the 
front seat of the carriage beside 
Mr. Hodgkins. 

“Where are you going?” asked 
Hannah, at the same time climb- 
ing into the back seat. 

“ I ’m going to town,” was the 
announcement, “and I’m going to 
take care of mythelf, too. N eed n’t 
think you’re going to thay ‘Let 
you hold my hand, Thubbinth,’ 
becauthe I geth I know how to 
take care of mythelf without any 
help from girlth.” 

39 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ Glad of it,” murmured his 
sister. 

“ ‘ Well He theeth and knowth it, if our light 
ith dim, 

He lookth down from Heaven, to thee uth’ — 
light our candleth, 

‘You in your thmall corner and I in mine.’ ” 

Stubbins sang at the top of his 
voice. “ I never wath on the earth 
but one time before,” he told Mr. 
Hodgkins. “ I want to thit nextht 
to the window.” 

“ Y ou may,” was the answer. 

On the train Stubbins talked all 
the time. He was so delighted with 
everything he saw that more than 
one man laid aside his newspaper 
a moment to listen to the child’s 
remarks. Molly Hodgkins was 
busy thinking how fine she looked. 
“ Hannah,” Stubbins observed, 

40 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ you don’t theem to thee anything. 
If I wath you, I would uthe my 
eyeth.” 

“Now I think of it,” said Mr. 
Hodgkins, “here is a dollar for 
each of you to spend. As you 
both know how to find your way 
around the city, we’ll have our 
luncheon first and then you may 
amuse yourselves until train time. 
We’ll meet at the station.” 

“Thatth a big plathe,” objected 
Stubbins. 

“Then we’ll arrange the exact 
spot in the station where we ’ll meet. 
Are you sure you won’t get lost, 
Sonny, nor get hurt ?” 

“ Why, thaketh alive, Pa, I uthed 
to go around alone when I wath 
ith a baby. I wath barefooted 
too, and I wath ith all ragth.” 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ Oh, Stubbins, don’t talk about 
it, and don’t tell everybody,” Molly 
grumbled. “He won’t get lost, 
Pa, and I ’m really glad he does n’t 
want to go with me.” 

“Where are you going?” de- 
manded Stubbins. 

“To buy a blue parasol with 
ruffles,” was the reply. 

Molly Hodgkins escaped from 
her new father and little brother at 
the first opportunity. F or seventy- 
nine cents she bought a pale blue 
parasol trimmed with ruffles. The 
young lady who sold the parasol 
tied her sash in a prettier bow than 
ever was made by Mrs. Mulvaney 
Hodgkins on a Sunday morning. 
The child’s next purchase was a 
gorgeous fan. 

“ I like this one,” said Molly, 

42 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


opening and closing her choice 
among many, “ because it makes 
such an expensive noise.” 

Thus prepared, Miss Molly 
Hodgkins went forth to as- 
tonish the alley and all who dwelt 
therein. 


43 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER VI 

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET 

I T was a sultry day, and Molly 
Hodgkins was tired by the 
time she reached the alley. Pave- 
ments blistered her feet, accus- 
tomed as they were to country 
roads and no shoes or stockings. 
The blue parasol looked well in 
the shop, but it did n’t protect one 
from the sun. Hats trimmed with 
roses are sometimes heavy. Molly 
Hodgkins decided that sunbonnets 
are more comfortable to wear in 
the country. The fan might do 
in church, but it did n’t prove a 
comfort on the street. Even the 

44 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


white dress was a disappointment, 
because it had lost its freshness 
and clung limp and soiled to the 
weary little figure when Molly 
Hodgkins passed the Anderson 
shanty. 

Almira Anderson was sitting on 
her doorstep when Molly saun- 
tered by, head in air. 

“Well, who be you?” inquired 
Almira. She was always a saucy 
child. “Be them there poses 
real ?” 

The rose-trimmed hat became 
extremely heavy as Molly Hodg- 
kins sauntered on. 

“ Whoa, there, whoa ! ” was her 
next greeting. The O’Toole boys 
were on their roof. “ I say,” called 
Pat, “ tie yourself up to a hitchin’ 
post. Them there blue ribbins 

45 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


you ’re roped up with air jest the 
thing fer a high-steppin’ pony. 
Whoa, there, I’m goin’ fer a 
drive ! ” 

“ He’s making fun of my sash,” 
groaned Molly, walking faster. 

Her third encounter was with 
Piggy Williams, a dejected little 
figure sitting on the ground with his 
head resting on a box, not at all like 
the Piggy Williams who once 
played with the Mulvaney children. 

“Dear me,” thought Molly, 
“Piggy didn’t used to be so pale 
and he was never sad, never. Are 
you sick, little boy ? ” she asked. 

For an instant the heavy eyes 
were lifted. 

“Aw — go ’long,” advised the 
youngster. 

Molly Hodgkins obeyed, but 

46 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


her heart was heavy. She thought 
it was her feet, because she was 
wearing new shoes ; but the truth 
is, Molly Hodgkins had smothered 
a longing to kneel in the dirt be- 
side Piggy Williams and to ask 
what was the matter. 

Grandma Perkins was on her 
doorstep reading the Bible when 
Molly hurried past. The child 
couldn’t glance the second time 
toward that doorstep without 
speaking to Grandma Perkins, — 
dear Grandma Perkins, who had 
been so kind to every ragged little 
Mulvaney in the long ago. 

A swarm of Perkins children 
were making a horrible din by 
beating tin cans with sticks. It 
was the afternoon performance of 
the alley brass band. Hannah 
47 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Mulvaney had been the leader of 
similar bands and knew that it was 
a jolly game. Molly Hodgkins 
pretended that she could n’t endure 
the noise. In spite of the racket, 
however, she heard Grandma Per- 
kins say, “ Why, there goes a little 
girl who favors Hannah Mulvaney. 
That straight little back somehow 
looks so natural.” 

You were mistaken, Grandma 
Perkins. At that moment Molly 
Hodgkins was hastening into 
further trouble. 

Sloppy Wether was making mud 
pies and baking them on top of 
Jerry Sampson’s and Goldy 
Jenkins’ heads. 

“Hold still,” commanded 
Sloppy Wether, placing Jerry with 
his back against the high board 

48 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


fence. “Your head isn’t flat 
enough fer more than three pies. 
Hold still, I say.” 

“ This here pie on my head is too 
juicy,” complained Goldy Jenkins, 
— “it’s a-runnin’ down my face.” 

“Boilin’ over, is it?” inquired 
the cook. “ I ’ll pepper it with 
more sugar. Shut your eyes, be- 
cause dirt ’s sugar. Why, cats and 
codfish! Who’s this a-comin’ 
down the pike with a blue umbrell ? 
Say, kids, raw pies is jest as good 
fer snow balls as cooked ones. 
We’ll give that there valentine out 
in the road a taste of pie! One, 
two, three, fire ’em ! ” 

Not a single mud pie reached 
Molly Hodgkins, — she ran too 
fast. 

In the house where the Mul- 

49 


4 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


vaneys were born a little boy lay 
ill. Through the windows of the 
“other room” Molly Hodgkins 
saw the boy plainly. His mother 
was fanning him with a news- 
paper. 

“ Oh, I wish he had my new 
fan ! ” Molly exclaimed. Then she 
passed on, knowing at last it was 
her heart that ached, not her feet. 
On and on she walked, down the 
old familiar alley. It was impos- 
sible to pass a single shanty with- 
out an adventure. Crying babies, 
scolding women, drunken fathers, 
heat, flies, and dirt. Molly Hodg- 
kins had dreamed of enjoying a 
walk down that alley; then let 
Molly Hodgkins be heard of 
nevermore. Hannah Mulvaney’s 
pity for all those poor children 
So 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


smothered Molly Hodgkins before 
that walk was ended. 

Tears rolled over the plump 
cheeks of the child from the 
country. “ I ’ll go back,” sobbed 
Hannah Mulvaney, “and tell them 
all about it. Poor, dear little 
Piggy Williams!” 


si 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER VII 

BY THE LIGHT OF STUBBING 
CANDLE 

W HEN Hannah Mulvaney 
turned to retrace her steps, 
she was confronted by a proces- 
sion. Five ragged little mortals, 
led by Sloppy W ether, each carry- 
ing a stick to which was attached 
something in imitation of her blue 
parasol, had overtaken Hannah 
and pranced softly behind her, to 
the delight of all beholders. The 
sudden turn was a surprise to both 
little girls. 

“Well, you don’t say!” ex- 
claimed Sloppy Wether. “If 
52 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


this here peacock ain’t Hannah 
Mulvaney !” 

“I think it’s queer nobody 
knew me,” Hannah replied, wiping 
her eyes on the hem of her Sunday 
dress. 

“You don’t say as you want to 
know us, do you?” gasped Sloppy 
Wether, throwing away her rag- 
bedecked stick. 

“I — I thought you ’d like to 
carry my parasol if you knew me,” 
ventured Hannah. 

“ Well, hand her over, the sun 's 
a-fadin’ my hair,” said Sloppy 
Wether with a grin. “ Quit your 
bawlin’. We 're all glad to see 
you. How’s your folks?” 

There was a welcome for little 
Hannah Mulvaney in every shanty 
on that alley. Before she reached 

53 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Grandma Perkins’ doorstep the 
child had given away her blue 
sash, her hair ribbons, the blue 
parasol, and the new fan. The 
latter gift fell to the lot of the child 
who lay ill in the “other room.” 
Hannah was pleased to see a smile 
brighten the wan face when she 
noisily opened the fan. 

“ It ’s the right kind for a boy,” 
Hannah observed, “because it 
creaks so loud.” 

“Our dear little Hannah!” ex- 
claimed Grandma Perkins. “ My 
dear child ! So you came back to 
tell us of the beautiful country.” 

“ And now,” said Hannah, when 
she had told Grandma Perkins 
and a group of wondering children 
about her new home, sheltered by 
great trees and surrounded by 

54 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


broad green fields, “ now please tell 
me what ails Piggy Williams ? ” 

“His mother says he’s under 
the weather,” was the information 
offered by Goldy J enkins. 

“He ain’t long for this world,” 
put in Jerry Sampson. “Her 
Aunt Mandy says so.” This with 
a nod toward the mud-pie cook. 

“The wee laddie has been ailing 
a long time,” added Grandma Per- 
kins, with a sigh. 

“He should be in the country,” 
Hannah declared. 

“ Indeed, that ’s true,” agreed the 
old lady. 

Hannah waited to hear no more. 
She found Piggy, as she had left 
him, sitting with his head on a 
box. In each hand was a stick of 
candy. 


55 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“Don’t you know Hannah?” 
the little girl implored, dropping 
close beside the child and caress- 
ing the dirty face. “ What is the 
matter ? Piggy dear, tell Hannah.” 

“ I ve got some candy,” said the 
boy. 

“ Who gave it to you ?” Hannah 
inquired. 

“Stubbins,” was the reply. 
“He’s here with a dollar’s worth 
of candy shining his light.” 

“Shining his light,” echoed 
Hannah; “what do you mean?” 

“He says he’s a little candle 
burning in the night. He’s queer, 
ain’t he, Han ?” 

“ Put your head down on my 
lap, Piggy, and tell Hannah what 
Stubbins is doing.” 

“ Giving away candy, that ’s all. 

56 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


He was here with a whole raft of 
young ones, but they made my head 
ache so he took them away. I 
guess all the boys are with him 
somewhere. They ’ll tag him long 
as the candy lasts. Han, I’m 
tired.” 

“ I ’ll fan you with my hat to 
keep off the flies,” offered Hannah, 
“ and you shut your eyes and maybe 
you ’ll get rested.” 

In a few minutes Piggy was 
asleep. When he awoke, Hannah 
whispered to him softly, “ Piggy, 
I ’m a little candle, too, and this is 
what my light is for; it’s to light a 
way for you to get to the country. 
I ’ve been thinking about it ever 
since you went to sleep, and a way 
will come. I don’t know anything 
about how, but you be a good little 
57 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


boy and say your prayers hard and 
try to get well. Then first thing 
you know you ’ll be chasing but- 
terflies in the country; only you 
mustn’t hurt butterflies.” 

“ Sure enough ?” asked Piggy. 

“Yes, Piggy,” insisted Hannah. 
“It’s a pretty big promise, but 
someway it will come true. Now 
I must find Stubbins.” 

It was easy to follow the trail of 
the small brother. Stick candy 
and excitement marked his 
footsteps. 

“ But where is he now ? ” de- 
manded Hannah, when she had 
searched the alley from end to end. 

“Gone with the alley orphan,” 
announced Almira Anderson. 

“The alley orphan,” repeated 
Hannah; “what do you mean?” 

58 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


It was hard for Hannah to un- 
derstand the story told by a dozen 
children at the same time. At last 
she sought Grandma Perkins. 

“ Do you s’pose,” asked the child, 
“do you s’pose that Stubbins has 
really run away with a baby ? ” 

“ I would n’t be a mite sur- 
prised,” the good woman made 
answer. Yet she must have 
been surprised, because for three 
minutes she did nothing but wipe 
her spectacles and murmur, 
“The best thing that could hap- 
pen. Well, well, well!” 

At the end of three minutes 
Hannah learned all she wished to 
know regarding a little stranger 
in the alley, referred to by Goldy 
Jenkins as “the extra baby.” 


59 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER VIII 

THE ALLEY ORPHAN 

H AN N API tried to forget the 
story of the alley orphan as 
she hastened toward the station. 
One idea was uppermost in her 
mind. That baby must be returned 
to Almira Anderson’s mother be- 
fore train time. Mrs. Mulvaney 
Hodgkins had always insisted that 
seven children were enough. How 
would she receive a little waif whom 
no one wanted? It was Mrs. 
Anderson’s turn to take care of 
him, and she must do her share. 
For three months that baby had 
been handed from one neighbor to 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


another until every family in the 
alley had cared for the lad. Babies 
were plentiful in the neighborhood. 
Every mother, grandmother, aunt, 
and big sister had enough to do 
looking after the infants of their 
own households. 

Because Mrs. O’Toole one day 
promised the baby’s mother that 
she would care for the child until 
the mother’s return, dwellers in the 
alley would not send the baby to 
an orphan’s home. They remem- 
bered how tenderly the young 
mother loved her baby. 

“And she might come back,” 
insisted Mrs. O’Toole; “sure, the 
poor thing may be took with a 
fever, and when she gets well she ’ll 
come back to us for her little one, 
and if we can’t tell her where to 

61 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


find him, what will we say? If I 
had n’t been acquainted with them 
when the father was alive, it would 
be different He was a carpenter, 
and I well remember the day he 
fell from the top of a building and 
was killed that sudden he never 
spoke again. Indeed I ’d not like 
to face Mrs. Castle unless I could 
hand her back the baby safe and 
sound.” 

Mrs. O’Toole’s family was 
large, her house small, and her 
husband was out of work the day 
Mrs. Castle left the alley to return 
a bundle of finished sewing. The 
neighbors, knowing this, proposed 
to share the care of baby. 

“I wish I was grown up and 
had a hundred dollars,” thought 
Hannah Mulvaney, when she 



“ TN A BIG ROCKING-CHAIR STUBBINS AND THE 
1 ALLEY ORPHAN WERE MAKING MERRY” 



SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


reached the station. “ I ’d build a 
house in the country and send for 
every child in that alley and let 
them live with me till they got 
married. But Ma, — what would 
Ma do if we took that baby home ?” 

A glance at the clock in the 
waiting-room filled the child with 
dismay. The train would leave in 
ten minutes, the last train that day 
so far as reaching the Hodgkins 
farm was concerned. 

In a big rocking-chair Stubbins 
and the alley orphan were making 
merry. 

“ Wock-a-by, happy day,” sang 
the baby, which was proof enough 
he did n’t know he was the worst- 
looking baby in the vast station. 
His face was dirty. The slip he 
wore hung in soiled tatters from 
63 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


his shoulders. On his head was a 
boy’s straw hat with torn rim and 
smashed crown. His bare feet 
and legs were the color of dust. 

“Go ’way!” he said, as Hannah 
approached. “ Go ’way ! Baby no 
like you!” 

“Well, it ithn’t thafe not to like 
her,” said Stubbins. 

“ What do you think Ma will 
say?” Hannah burst forth. 

“ I don’t know,” admitted Stub- 
bins. “ I ’ll thleep in the barn with 
him, and I know he ’ll get enough 
to eat. Hith clothe are all wored 
out anyway, tho he can’t thay any- 
thing. Han, he ith a nithe baby! 
He ith too good to thay in that 
alley!” 

There was no time to take the 
little fellow back to Mrs. Anderson. 

64 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ Oh, Stubbins, Stubbins, what 
shall we do!” groaned Hannah. 
“It’s dangerous to go home.” 

“ I ’m thcared thiff,” Stubbins 
acknowledged, “ but nobody wanth 
him, and I thought it would be 
nithe to take him home, but I geth 
it won’t” 

Neither Stubbins nor Hannah 
dreamed that Mr. Hodgkins would 
object to the baby; but he did. 

“I think he thaid thome bad 
wordth,” Stubbins whispered to 
Hannah, who straightway began 
pleading in behalf of the alley 
orphan. 

“The train leaves in two min- 
utes,” said Mr. Hodgkins, “so the 
only thing to do is to take the child 
home with us to-night and decide 
later what ’s to be done with him.” 

5 65 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ Ba-by no go,” protested the 
alley orphan when Stubbins tried 
to coax him away from the rocker. 
“ Ba-by stay here.” 

“ Baby come with Thubbinth,” 
urged the small brother. “ Have a 
nithe ride on the earth.” 

“ See the choo-choo engine,” 
added Hannah. “Toot — toot — 
toot, choo — choo — choo — ” 

Mr. Hodgkins waited one min- 
ute and thirty seconds while Stub- 
bins and Hannah did their utmost 
to persuade Baby to do the proper 
thing; then he picked the child 
up bodily and carried him kick- 
ing and screaming through the 
gates. 

By the time they were seated on 
the train, Mr. Hodgkins looked as 
if he were father of the untidy 
66 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


children; his hat was knocked 
sideways, his necktie was yanked 
almost off, and his cuffs were loose. 
Baby still yelled at the top of his 
voice. 


67 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER IX 

HANNAH MULVANEY CAME HOME 


"W ] 


r ILL he alwayth act thith 
way?” Stubbins inquired 
when the baby fell asleep. 

“No,” Hannah replied decid- 
edly, “ Ma would n’t allow it.” 

“What shall we say to your 
mother!” exclaimed Mr. Hodgkins, 
straightening his necktie and ad- 
justing the rebellious cuffs. 
“ Children, what shall we say ? ” 
“We’ll itht have to make the 
betht of it,” remarked Stubbins. 

“That’s easy enough to talk 
about,” sputtered Hannah. “You 
got us into this trouble arid you 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


ought to think of a way out of 
it.” 

“Pa’ll do that; he ith a big 
man.” 

“ A mere infant in the face of 
your mother’s wrath,” murmured 
the farmer, gazing over the chil- f 
dren’s heads through the window. 

“Well, we’ll itht have to thithk 
together,” advised Stubbins, snug- 
gling close to his father and looking 
up with a smile that won the man’s 
heart. 

“ We’ll have to think fast then,” 
said he. “Hannah, haven’t you 
any suggestions to offer ? ” 

“ I ’ve been thinking,” Hannah 
replied, “that it would be a good 
idea to leave the little alley orphan 
somewhere and go home without 
him.” 


69 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ I ’mwith you there,” interrupted 
Welcome Hodgkins. 

Stubbins laughed. “ I geth that 
would be the betht way ’cauthe iths 
hard to tell what Ma will do with 
uth.” 

“ But you don’t understand,” 
Hannah continued. “ I mean that 
we could leave the baby somewhere 
for a little while, then go home 
and tell Ma all about him, only 
don’t say he came on the cars with 
us. I know this much about Ma; 
— she scolds, and she ’ll spank you, 
but she couldn’t — couldn’t help 
dividing her dinner with a hungry 
tramp, and she would make us all 
share with this baby. I know she 
would.” 

“ I believe you are right,” agreed 
the man. “ Poor little chap is 

70 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


sure of his supper, anyway. Do 
you suppose Mrs. Randall would 
clean him up some, mop off his 
face, for instance, before we take 
him home?” 

“We’ll ask her,” said Hannah. 

The hired man and his wife 
were the only ones at home on the 
Randall farm when Mr. Hodgkins 
stopped at the gate. 

“I’ll take care of the child for 
you,” offered the woman. “Poor 
little treasure!” 

The poor little treasure had 
ideas of his own, and kicked and 
screamed so vigorously Mr. Hodg- 
kins decided to drive on with 
him. 

“We are in a pickle,” he 
groaned. “ Stubbins, young man, 
this is the last time I ’ll take you 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


to the city with me.” Whereat 
Stubbins grinned. 

“We’ll catch it,” murmured 
Hannah, who tried in vain to inter- 
est the alley orphan in the pigs that 
went to market and the house that 
J ack built. 

“Whoa!” shouted the driver, 
just before turning into his own 
domain. “Here’s Chinkey. 
Want a job, Sonny? Will you 
stay here and mind this — 
this — ” 

“ ‘ Poor little treasure,’ ” Hannah 
put in. 

“This ‘poor little treasure,”’ 
quoted the man, “until we go 
home and sort of explain 
matters ? ” 

Briefly Hannah outlined their 
adventures with the baby, and 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Chinkey agreed to share the 
responsibility. 

“ Let ba-by go, let ba-by go,” 
wailed the stranger, as Chinkey 
undertook the difficult task of 
holding the child. 

“If you find me dead when you 
come back,” called Chinkey, “ re- 
member I died at my fence post. 
No, you don’t, youngster, you’re 
too handy with your arms and legs. 
Shut your mouth!” 

“ Oh, Chinkey, be kind to him,” 
begged Hannah, tears filling her 
eyes. 

“ Where ’s your hair ribbons ? ” 
demanded Mrs. Mulvaney when 
she beheld her daughter. 

The child began to sob. “ Oh, 
Ma,” she said, “ I can’t help what 
you do to me ! I could n’t see all 

73 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


those poor children and not give 
away everything that would come 
off.” 

“What children?” inquired the 
woman. 

“ Oh, Ma, I went back where I 
was born and looked around.” 
Hannah broke down and wept bit- 
terly. “I — I gave those poor 
children everything I could — I — 

I—” 

“ Come here to me,” interrupted 
Mrs. Mulvaney, seating herself in 
a big rocker on the porch. 

Slowly, shrinkingly, Hannah 
obeyed. The twins ran away; 
they didn’t wish to see Hannah 
in trouble. 

“Come here to me,” repeated 
Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins. 

The next moment a strange 

74 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


thing happened. Mrs. Mulvaney 
gathered the little girl in her arms 
and kissed her. Mrs. Mulvaney 
kissed Hannah! She did that 
same thing once before. The 
child cried harder than ever at such 
unexpected treatment. 

“ My little Hannah Mulvaney 
came home,” said her mother. “ I 
thought she was getting vain, and 
it is glad I am she could n’t keep 
her finery.” 

Hannah made haste to tell the 
story of the blue sash ; that done, it 
was easy to present another subject. 
“We found out something aw — 
awful sad in the alley,” she ven- 
tured. “ That is, Stubbins found 
it. Tell Ma, Stubbins.” 

With more or less help from his 
sister and Mr. Hodgkins, Stubbins 
7 5 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


related the tale of the motherless 
baby. 

“ Why did n’t you bring that 
baby home?” demanded Mrs. 
Mulvaney Hodgkins. 

Hannah laughed through her 
tears. “We did ! ” she said. 

“We did,” echoed Mr. Hodg- 
kins and the delighted Stubbins. 

Nora, Dora, Johnnie, Mike, 
Hannah and the little brother ran 
to relieve the valiant Chinkey. 

“I’d just as soon hold a 
wildcat,” Chinkey declared when 
help arrived; and forthwith, after 
adventures on the way, the alley 
orphan was dragged, shrieking, 
into the presence of Mrs. Mul- 
vaney. 

The baby was frightened; his 
breath came in gasping sobs. 

76 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“He’ll need training,” observed 
Welcome Hodgkins. 

“He needs bread and milk,” 
corrected Mrs. Mulvaney Hodg- 
kins. 

At the sound of a woman’s voice 
baby stopped crying for an instant. 
In that brief space he saw the 
mother of the little Mulvaneys. 
Springing toward her, he cried, 
“ Mam-ma, Mam-ma ! ” 

Then did Mrs. Mulvaney gather 
that scrap of humanity in her arms, 
and cuddle him and croon over 
him and rock him as she had never 
for a moment cuddled a little 
Mulvaney. 

Baby stopped crying. Patting 
Mrs. Mulvaney’s cheek with a wee 
soiled hand, he repeated over and 
over, “Mam-ma, Mam-ma!” 

77 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER X 

A CANDLE SHINES FOR PIGGY 
WILLIAMS 

S OAP and water made a pleas- 
ing change in the appearance 
of Baby. At first he objected to 
the ceremony of bathing, and the 
seven small Mulvaneys were sur- 
prised that he escaped a spanking.. 
Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins was not 
only patient with Baby, but 
Johnnie, Mike and Stubbins 
were requested to dance around 
the bathtub for his amusement. 
Chinkey held towels, while Han- 
nah waited with comb, brush and 
the smallest nightie she could 

7 » 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


find, one that Stubbins had out- 
grown. 

At last Baby laughed gleefully 
and splashed soapy water in the 
children’s faces until they forgot 
to dance. 

“ Oh, the sweet little fellow!” ex- 
claimed Nora, when Baby was 
ready for his bread and milk. 

“The sweet little fellow!” 
echoed Dora. 

He was a pretty baby, with fair 
skin and light, soft hair that curled 
the least bit on the ends. His 
smile was adorable. 

“ Ba-by want dink,” said the 
child. 

Stubbins brought him water. 

“ Ba-by want cookie,” was the 
next demand. Hannah ran to do 
the stranger’s bidding. 

79 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ N o, boy dit cookie,” Baby 
objected, nor would he accept the 
cookie from Hannah. 

“Take it, Stubbins, and give it 
to him,” commanded Mrs. Mul- 
vaney Hodgkins, buttoning the 
nightie. 

“ Here, Ba-bee,” mocked Stub- 
bins, taking a big bite from the 
cookie before passing it over. 

“ Don’t you know better than 
that?” inquired Mrs. Mulvaney, 
giving Stubbins a whack with her 
slipper. 

“ Do it din,” said Baby, believ- 
ing that Stubbins was punished for 
his amusement. “Do it din, 
Mam-ma.” 

The children laughed. 

“ Boy dit Ba-by more dink,” was 
the next suggestion. 

80 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“You ith did have a drink,” re- 
minded Stubbins. 

“ Boy dit dink,” persisted Baby, 
and straightway began to roar and 
kick. 

Instead of spanking the baby, 
Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins reached 
for her slipper ; a hint not lost on 
Stubbins. He brought the water. 

After Baby was fed bread and 
milk from a blue bowl, Mrs. Mul- 
vaney rocked him to sleep. In the 
meantime Mr. Hodgkins brought 
a crib from the attic. 

“It belonged to my own boy,” 
the man explained to Hannah, 
“but this baby needs it now.” 

Having cuddled the sleeping 
child under blankets in the crib, 
Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins kissed 
him. 

6 81 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“He ith a nithe baby,” whispered 
Stubbins, who wished that his 
mother would kiss him too. In- 
stead of doing so, she raised a 
warning forefinger and said, “ Mind 
you don’t wake him.” 

Finding her mother in so soft- 
ened a mood, Hannah told about 
Piggy Williams. 

“ His mother never had any 
sense,” observed Mrs. Mulvaney. 
“You’d think that a woman with 
only one child to her name would 
look after him better.” 

“ Piggy was dirtier than ever,” 
Hannah continued, “ and he did n’t 
act a bit like himself. I ’m afraid 
he ’s going to die.” 

“ If he’d die and be done with 
it, I would n’t mind,” snapped 
Mrs. Mulvaney. 

82 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“Why, Ma.” 

“ I mean it, Hannah. It seems 
hard to think of that neglected 
child half sick in the dreadful heat, 
living along from day to day and 
never no chance to grow up and 
be a good man.” 

“ That ’s just what I think,” 
agreed Hannah. “ Don’t you 
s’pose, Ma, — oh, — don’t you 
s’pose we could have him come out 
here for a few weeks ? I know he 
won’t fight Mike and Johnnie now 
the way he used to, because there 
isn’t any fight left in him. Any- 
way, I ’m his candle.” 

“ You ’re his what ? ” questioned 
Mrs. Mulvaney. 

“I’m his candle,” repeated 
Hannah. “ Stubbins is Baby’s 
candle. We’re trying to light 
83 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


our corners. Now, Ma, I ’ll tell 
you all about it.” 

Hannah hastened through her 
story so fast it seemed useless to 
interrupt; and if Mrs. Mulvaney 
Hodgkins did n’t seem highly de- 
lighted at the prospect of so much 
illumination, she nevertheless prom- 
ised to think about what might be 
done for Piggy Williams. 


84 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER XI 

THE ACCIDENT 

O NCE a week Mr. Hodgkins 
received a farm journal 
through the mail. The morn- 
ing after Hannah’s experience in 
the city, the postman left some- 
thing in the box by the front 
gate. 

“You must be mistaken,” Mrs. 
Mulvaney said to Hannah. 

“ But, Ma,” insisted the little girl, 
“ I saw him stop and I heard him 
say ‘Whoa!’ I ’m going after it, 
whatever is there.” 

In a minute Hannah was 
back, flourishing a letter. “It’s 
85 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


for Pa,” she called, “and he’s 
in the corncrib. I ’ll take it to 
him.” 

Soon Mr. Hodgkins returned to 
the house accompanied by all the 
children. 

“ Come, get out,” warned Mrs. 
Mulvaney Hodgkins, “it ain’t man- 
ners to stand gawking around watch- 
ing anybody that ’s got a letter.” 

With many a backward glance 
the seven took their departure. Mr. 
Hodgkins looked troubled; he 
seemed unable to put his thoughts 
in words. 

“Well,” suggested Mrs. Mul- 
vaney, when her patience was all 
but gone. 

“ It’s anything but ‘well,’” was 
the retort; “ this letter puts me in an 
awkward position. I can’t say yes, 
86 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


and I dislike saying no in such a 
case.” 

“Well, what’s the case?” 
snapped his wife. 

“It seems Cousin Matt is dead, 
died some ten year ago out West 
somewhere.” 

“Don’t go to sleep,” urged Mrs. 
Mulvaney Hodgkins, as the man 
closed his eyes for an instant. 
“Who’s Cousin Matt?” 

“Matthew Hodgkins; saw him 
last when we were both little shav- 
ers going to school.” Again the 
man paused. 

“Welcome Hodgkins,” threat- 
ened the woman, “either tell me 
what ’s in that letter or get out, if 
you don’t want your ears boxed.” 

“ I was coming to it,” was the 
reply. “It seems IV^att has a 
87 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


daughter just out of college, and 
as bad luck will have it she has 
found out that she has one living 
relative on her father’s side, and 
nothing will do but she must come 
to visit me.” The man groaned. 

“Well, what are you taking on 
about?” inquired Mrs. Mulvaney, 
bringing her rolling-pin down with 
alarming force upon the pie crust 
she was making. “Is there any 
reason why a college girl should n’t 
visit her cousin ? ” 

Possibly Mr. Hodgkins did n’t 
wish to grieve his new wife by ex- 
plaining that her household meth- 
ods were so original he would be 
ashamed to entertain guests, but 
certain it is, he said nothing of the 
kind. 

“I — I thought,” mumbled Mr. 

88 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Hodgkins, “that perhaps you had 
all you could do looking after the 
children. I think I ’ll write her 
that we regret — ” 

“ Regret nothing ! ” interrupted 
Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins, lifting 
the rolling-pin so high Mr. Hodg- 
kins prepared for the worst. 
“ What’s the use of having a home 
and family if you can’t be horspit- 
able? If you don’t write that girl 
that she’s welcome as raisins in 
mince pie, I ’ll do it myself.” 

Whatever his misgivings on the 
subject of entertaining a college 
girl in that home, Mr. Hodgkins 
wrote her a letter approved by his 
wife. “It’s pleasant reading,” she 
said. 

Three weeks passed quickly. 
But for Sally Brown, Hannah 

89 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


would have been in despair regard- 
ing her promise to Piggy Williams. 

“We’ll write him letters and 
send him boxes of flowers,” sug- 
gested Sally, “and then he’ll know 
you haven’t forgotten him.” 

In spite of all her mother said 
about the advantages of a visit 
from a college girl, Hannah wished 
that Piggy Williams was the ex- 
pected guest. 

“ She ’ll learn you how to be a 
lady,” said Mrs. Hodgkins. 

“ And I could teach Piggy Wil- 
liams how to wash his face and be 
a nice, clean country boy,” thought 
the little girl. 

Mr. Hodgkins was an absent- 
minded man. The day his niece 
was expected he did an unfortunate 
thing. He was thinking about 

90 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


men who were not quite through 
giving the house a fresh coat of 
white paint, when he locked his 
wife in the hen-house and then 
went whistling across the fields. 

The hen-house was large, and it 
was some time before Mrs. Mul- 
vaney discovered that she was a 
prisoner. 

“Well, this is a nice how-dy- 
do!” Mrs. Mulvaney complained. 
“ Here I ’ve got more work this 
morning than I can get through 
and us expected at the station at 
two this afternoon !” 

Loud and long Mrs. Mulva- 
ney shouted for help ! There was 
not a child within hearing. The 
poultry took up the chorus, but 
their united voices only angered 
Mrs. Mulvaney. She made em- 
91 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


phatic remarks, and when a yellow 
rooster ventured some saucy reply 
she took off her slipper and threw 
it at him. 

Two hours later Hannah 
searched the house from cellar to 
attic calling to her mother. At last, 
thoroughly alarmed, she ran to tell 
Mr. Hodgkins that her mother was 
not to be found, although everything 
in the kitchen was left in disorder. 

“ I was upstairs doing the dust- 
ing,” gasped the child, “and put 
ting fresh papers on the closet 
shelves. It always takes me a 
long time to do shelves because 
papers you use up always have 
something in them you want to 
read, and so there’s no knowing 
how long Ma’s been gone.” 

A guilty look and the edges of 

92 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


a smile struggled for supremacy 
on Mr. Hodgkins’ face. 

“ Hannah,” he asked, “do you 
know how to use a key in a 
padlock?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then take this key to the hen- 
house and let your mother out. I 
recollect locking that door from 
force of habit.” 

“ Ma is locked in the hen-house?” 
Hannah whispered. 

“Yes, my dear.” 

“Then, Pa, I don’t dare let her 
out.” 

“Neither do I,” confessed the 
man. “Turn the key softly, Han- 
nah, and then run. I have impor- 
tant business to attend to before I 
drive to town, so tell your mother I 
won’t be in to dinner. I ’ll hitch up 

93 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


and wait for her at the front gate 
half an hour before train time.” 

The alley orphan was the only 
lucky one that day, as the little 
Mulvaneys could well testify. 

At half-past one Mrs. Mul- 
vaney, dressed in her best black 
gown, red in the face, cross, and 
uncomfortable, stepped upon the 
side porch. 

“ Oh, Ma,” warned Hannah, 
“that floor has just been painted.” 

Hannah spoke a moment too 
late. Mrs. Mulvaney slipped on 
the fresh paint and fell with a 
crash that shook the windows. 

“Are you hurt?” screamed the 
little girl. 

“Yes,” was the response, fol- 
lowed by a moan of pain. 


94 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER XII 

COUSIN MARGUERITE 

T HE floor of the side porch 
was on a level with the 
ground. 

“ I ’m spoiling the paint ! ” ex- 
claimed Mrs. Mulvaney. “ Don’t 
you step on it too,” she warned 
Hannah, f ‘ you ’ll track paint all 
over everything. Stand back. I’m 
going to get out on the grass.” 

Mrs. Mulvaney did it, but 
fainted in the attempt. The weep- 
ing children turned frightened faces 
toward Hannah. 

“ She ’s — she ’s only fainted.” 
Hannah’s teeth chattered so she 

95 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


could hardly speak. “ Run for 
water and pour it on her face; 
that’s what Sally Brown does for 
her mother.” 

“If water’s good, lemonade’s 
better,” argued Chinkey, dashing 
into the dining-room for a pitcher 
of lemonade prepared for the home- 
coming of Mr. Hodgkins’ niece. 

Swift as thought Mike flew to 
the kitchen for a pan of butter- 
milk. “If lemonade ’s better, but- 
termilk is stronger yet,” was his 
idea. 

Mrs. Mulvaney quickly revived. 

“Water did it,” said Hannah. 

“ No, sir, it was the lemonade,” 
Chinkey insisted. 

“It was the buttermilk,” Mike 
exclaimed ; and it is- a fact that the 
instant buttermilk splashed upon 

96 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Mrs. Mulvaney’s face and began 
flowing in white, lumpy rivers 
down her neck and over her black 
gown, she opened her eyes. 

“ I ’m badly hurt,” she moaned. 
“ Stubbins, don’t let Baby come 
near me. Take him away. You 
twins, bring the camphor bottle. 
Hannah, you run for Mrs. Randall, 
and, Chinkey, you and your Pa 
drive to town fast as you can go 
and fetch the biggest doctor, and 
then telegraph to the city for a 
trained nurse.” 

“ For what kind of a nurse?” 

“A trained nurse — one that 
wears a regular uniform, blue dress 
and white cap and apron. I won’t 
have no other.” 

When the neighbors came and 
Mrs. Mulvaney was carried into 

7 97 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


the house by strong men, the chil- 
dren ran away, nor did they venture 
near the house until late afternoon. 
Chinkey found them in the back 
lot when he returned from the 
village. 

“Will she die, do you s’pose?” 
wailed Hannah. 

“No, I stayed long enough to 
find out what s happened,” said 
Chinkey. “ She s broken her leg, 
that s all.” 

“ All ! ” echoed the little Mul- 
vaneys, and wept afresh. Johnnie 
was remarkably loud in his expres- 
sions of grief. 

“Well,” sobbed Hannah, “it 
might be worse. “ What if we 
were living in the alley ! Think 
of that ! ” 

“ Makes me think,” interrupted 

98 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Chinkey, “ the doctor he sent for 
that there nurse. She’s coming 
this afternoon.” 

“ Oh, did our company come ? ” 
questioned Mike. 

“ N ever thought of her,” acknowl- 
edged Chinkey, “and I ’m sure Pa 
did n’t. Well, walking ’s good.” 

“Why, Chinkey,” remonstrated 
Hannah, “that’s not very horspi- 
table.” 

“It’s sense,” was the retort. 

“Thay,” begged Stubbins, 
“pleathe keep thtill. The only 
time thith baby ’th good ith when 
he ith athleep. He thayth ‘ Boy 
dit thith ’ and ‘ Boy dit that ’ till 
I ’m tired. Thing to him, Han- 
nah, tho he’ll go to thleep.” 

“ Yes, sing,” mocked Hannah, 
“ sing when your heart is broken.” 

99 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ Well, then, keep thtill tho he’ll 
go to thleep.” 

“ Ba-by no go sleep,” protested 
the infant. “ Boy go walk. Ba-by 
go too. Ba-by want dink.” 

“I ith tired going to the thpring 
with you,” pouted Stubbins. “You 
ith better live there with the frogth. 
If Madid n’t like you tho well, I’d 
thend you back to the thity.” 

“ Ba-by no go,” was the response. 
“ Ba-by want dink, more dink.” 

“Make him take you,” urged 
Mike; “exercise’ll start him 
growin’ like a onion.” 

“You mind your bithneth,” ad- 
vised Stubbins. 

“ Oh, children, don’t quarrel,” 
besought Hannah; “we’re all in 
such dreadful trouble.” 

To the relief of Stubbins, Baby 

IOO 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


fell asleep in the grass and slept 
through the long afternoon. Han- 
nah was shocked when the little 
ones showed a tendency to be 
cheerful. 

“Haven’t you any feelings?” 
she demanded. “ Don’t you know 
we ought to keep remembering 
our dreadful trouble? I think we 
ought to tell sad stories, and, any- 
way, we ought not to smile, not 
for a week.” 

Thus admonished, the little Mul- 
vaneys continued to mope and did 
their best to be miserable. Once 
Chinkey attempted to tell a joke, 
but was repressed by Hannah. 

“ I ’m hungry,” J ohnnie com- 
plained, when the shadows of the 
fence posts seemed trying to reach 
across the field. 


IOI 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“You ought to be ashamed of 
yourself for thinking about being 
hungry,” said Hannah. “ Don’t 
you know Mas leg is broken?” 

“Seems to me,” put in Mike, 
with a wink at Chinkey, — “seems 
to me we ’re selfish not to go to 
tell Ma we’re safe. I ’magine 
she ’s afraid we all fell in the cis- 
tern or something.” 

“Well, sure enough,” agreed 
Chinkey, “ we must go back to 
the house.” 

At the garden gate the seven 
were welcomed by a stranger, a 
golden-haired girl, all smiles and 
dimples. 

“ Oh, you dear children, I ’m so 
glad you came home ! I have the 
best supper waiting for you; do 
come in.” 


102 



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SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ Are you our company ? ” asked 
Stubbins. 

“ I ’m your cousin Marguerite 
Hodgkins,” the girl replied, “and 
indeed I ’m not company. I came 
just at the right time. Are you 
children going to help me keep 
house? I’ll need help. Only think, 
children ! I ’ve been taking lessons 
in cooking and all such things, so 
now ’s my chance to practise. Do 
you like pie ? ” 

“Yeth, we do,” was Stubbins’ 
prompt answer, as the seven 
trooped into the dining-room. 

Hannah thought it beneath her 
dignity to look surprised when she 
beheld the table. 

“Are the flowerth to eat?” in- 
quired Stubbins, nodding toward 
a bowl of crimson roses adorn- 

103 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


ing the centre of the table, and 
buds scattered upon the white 
cloth. 

“ You may eat them if you 
wish,” was the laughing answer. 

“ Well, I geth it won’t be nethe* 
thary. Thith good thupper ith a 
great thurprithe. I ’m tho glad 
you came.” 

“ So am I,” added Welcome 
Hodgkins. 

Several times during the follow- 
ing hour, Hannah almost laughed 
aloud, but checked herself quickly, 
remembering why her mother was 
absent from the table. 

“Is it true,” asked the little girl 
when she helped Cousin Mar- 
guerite wash dishes, — “ is it true 
that you are a college graduater?” 

The big girl laughed. “It is 
104 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


true that I graduated from col- 
lege this very June,” said she. 
“Why?” 

“ Oh, I ’m going to be what you 
are, that’s all.” 


«>5 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER XIII 

MRS. MULVANEY’S TRAINED 
NURSE 

I T was necessary to push the 
children into their mother’s 
room when she sent for them at 
twilight They hung back and 
stared solemn-eyed at the nurse who 
urged them to walk nearer the bed. 

Mrs. Mulvaney felt the impor- 
tance of the occasion, and gazed 
upon her flock as if a number of 
strangers had been ushered into 
her presence. Hannah began to 
cry softly, while Chinkey looked 
miserable as he stood first on one 
foot, then on the other. 

106 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Baby was the first to speak. 
“ Dit up,” he commanded, taking 
a step farther into the room, 
“ Mam-ma dit up. Boy no play 
with ba-by. Mam-ma spank boy.” 

The nurse turned quickly. 
“ Dear me,” she said, “ I was 
startled for a minute. If I did n’t 
know that baby was yours, Mrs. 
Hodgkins, I should say he be- 
longed to a dear little woman who 
once sewed for me. Her child’s 
name was Richard Castle.” 

“Thath — that hith name — 
thath the name of thith baby,” 
Stubbins burst forth. “Are you 
hith mother ?” 

“No, dear, and I wonder how 
the baby happened to be in such 
good hands. Come, Richard, 
come see Miss Elson.” 

107 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ Ba-by no like you, Baby like 
Mam-ma. Mam-ma dit up.” 

“ Mamma can’t get up, dear.” 

“Well,” interrupted Stubbins, 
“ I thay, where ith hith mother ? 
Mitheth O’Toole ith waiting for 
her to come back. Babyth mother 
mutht come and get him.” 

“ Ba-by no go,” insisted the 
infant 

“You’ll have to go if your 
mother eometh after you, tho 
there ! ” 

“ His mother will never come,” 
said the nurse in a low tone, as she 
tried to put her arm around the 
squirming infant. “ She died in a 
hospital. I never knew where she 
lived, but several times little Rich- 
ard came with her to bring my 
sewing home. She was run over 

108 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


on the street, taken to the hospital 
where I happened to be nursing, 
and died in an hour. No one 
knew where she lived nor anything 
about her.” 

“ Mitheth O’Toole can tell you 
about her,” Stubbins suggested. 
“ Why did n’t they ask Mitheth 
O’Toole ?” 

“ Strange, but nobody thought 
of going to Mrs. O’T oole,” the 
nurse remarked with a smile. 

“ Sure, and there 's room enough 
in this house for a wee lad like 
him,” declared Mrs. Mulvaney, 
“ and it ’s glad we are that Stub- 
bins found him.” 

“Thaketh alive, Ma, maybe you 
would n’t thay that if you wath me. 
I don’t have any time to look at my 
pig. He ith tagth me all day.” 

109 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“Ba-by like boy,” was consoling 
or should have been. “He dit 
Ba-by dink. Mam-ma no spank 
boy.” 

“ You are a nuithanthe,” insisted 
Stubbins. 

“ Shall I take him back to Mrs. 
O’Toole when I return to the 
city ? ” asked the nurse. 

“ Mitheth O’Toole doth not 
want him.” 

“ But if I pay her for taking 
care of him she would keep the 
baby. I love the poor little 
fellow.” 

“ Tho do we, and he ith not 
poor. He liveth with uth ! He ith 
a nuithanthe, but I ’m hith candle, 
and I think when Ma thayth he 
can thay here, he ith going to 
thay.” 


IIO 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“And, oh, I wish Piggy Wil- 
liams were here too,” Hannah 
added with a doleful sigh. 

“Why, I ’ve heard of Piggy Wil- 
liams,” added the nurse. “He 
once took care of Richard while 
Mrs. Castle was after one of my 
aprons to make. Is his mother 
dead ? ” 

“ No, but Piggy is sick,” Han- 
nah replied. “ I wish he could 
come out in the country, but now 
Mas hurt, of course we can’t have 
him, and I ’m his candle.” 

“You dear child,” murmured the 
nurse, “ I ’ll tell you what we will 
do. You find some one in the 
country who will take him and I will 
pay his board for three months.” 

“You will?” asked Hannah, 
“you will ?” 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ I will,” was the firm response. 

That was too much for Hannah. 
She crossed the room and wept on 
her mother’s neck. 

“ She ’s a good woman,” whis- 
pered Mrs. Mulvaney, “ and you 
jest learn her ways, Hannah, so’s 
you ’ll get to be a lady too.” 

“Now better kiss Mother good 
night,” the nurse suggested, “ we 
must n’t let her get too tired.” 

“We ith go to bed,” Stubbins 
began; “we don’t kith — 

“ Stubbins, come here ! ” warned 
Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins. “ Step 
up, children ! Don’t you know it ’s 
time to go to bed when you kiss 
Mother good night?” 

“ Look here, Stubbins,” she con- 
tinued in a whisper, “if you let 

Miss Elson know that you never 
1 12 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


kissed me good night before, it ’s a 
•spanking you’ll get the first day 
I’m on my feet. Now mind.” 

“Why, Ma!” exclaimed Stub- 
bins. “I’d rather kith you good 
night every night and morningth 
too than to get that thpanking. 
Kithing your Ma ith not tho bad.” 

“Won’t you kiss me good night, 
Stubbins ? ” inquired Miss Elson. 

“You will pleathe ekthkuthe 
me,” objected Stubbins, “but I 
never kith girlth. Mike, he ’ll kith 
you.” 

Mike and Johnnie darted from 
the room, followed closely by the 
twins. 

“ I kissed her good night,” was 
Hannah’s reproof when she joined 
her giggling brothers and sisters. 

“Just like you,” mocked 

8 113 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Chinkey. “ I s’pose now you ’re 
ready for the torchlight procession.” 

“ What do you mean, sir ?” 

“ Got your candle blazing, haven’t 
you ? Stubbins has been trying to 
make us think we’re all candles. 
Now I’m a bonfire or I’m 
nothing.” 

“ I ’m Piggy Williams’ candle,” 
repeated Hannah, “and laugh if 
you want to, but its light shall 
reach the alley.” 

“ He’ll think it’s a sky-rocket,” 
persisted Chinkey. 

“He ’ll thay it ith too good to be 
true,” added the little brother, “and 
it ith time for you, Mithter Mul- 
vaney, to be thinking what ith your 
candle going to do in thith world 
of darkneth!” 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER XIV 

THE TWINS LIGHT THEIR 
CANDLES 

S EVERAL days passed before 
Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins 
would allow Hannah to go inquest 
of a boarding place for Piggy 
Williams. The eldest daughter 
was needed at home. Her mother 
required constant attention. Some- 
times the nurse smiled, sometimes 
she sighed, when her patient in- 
sisted upon having pillows shaken 
every five minutes, or demanded a 
drink of fresh water whenever 
she sat down to rest. Once Han- 
nah found Cousin Marguerite 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


and the nurse laughing in a 
corner. 

“It is a good thing there are 
two of us,” Cousin Marguerite was 
saying. Hannah wondered what 
she meant. 

Truth to tell, Mrs. Mulvaney 
did her utmost to keep the nurse 
busy. “ I ain’t never been waited 
on before,” she confided in her 
daughter, “and I mean that 
your Pa shall get his money’s 
worth.” 

Many an hour the nurse was 
compelled to fan Mrs. Mulvaney 
while she slept. Often she sus- 
pected her patient of pretending 
to sleep, because Mrs. Mulvaney 
roused so quickly when the fan 
ceased moving. 

“ Don’t let any flies crawl over 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


my face while I ’m asleep,” was a 
frequent warning. 

Hannah was obliged to be near 
at hand in case her mother asked 
for something neither the nurse 
nor Cousin Marguerite was able to 
find. Could she have forgotten 
Piggy Williams, the little girl 
would have been happy in helping 
Mr. Hodgkins’ niece, who made 
every room in the farm-house a 
charming place. N o spot was 
ever quite the same after Cousin 
Marguerite passed by. To be like 
her was Hannah’s determination. 

At last Miss Elson found a way 
to keep Mrs. Mulvaney from 
dwelling too much upon her im- 
portance as a patient with a broken 
leg and a trained nurse. She read 
to her from a ponderous volume 

117 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


on Political Economy ; every sen- 
tence was beyond Mrs. Mulvaney’s 
comprehension, but she listened 
intently and ejaculated from time 
to time, “To be sure,” and 
“ Exactly.” 

“Why in the world don’t you 
read her a story, or a poem, or 
something interesting?” demanded 
Cousin Marguerite. 

“Tried it,” was the reply. 
“ She does n’t care for anything in 
that line. She asked for something 
deep. Words I can’t pronounce I 
slide over and it is all the same.” 

Thus Hannah won freedom. 
The child thought she would have 
no trouble in finding a farmer’s 
wife glad to board Piggy Williams 
for three months. Her nearest 
neighbor was Mrs. Randall. 

118 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“Will you take him?” asked the 
child, after explaining to Mrs. 
Randall that Piggy was a “ nice, 
dirty little boy with a disease.” 

“We are expecting a house full 
of company, Hannah,” objected 
Mrs. Randall, “and I shall have 
my hands full. I really cannot 
take the child.” 

All that day Hannah trudged 
through the country in search of a 
home for Piggy. No one cared 
to board a small boy from the 
slums, vaguely described as the 
most unattractive little fellow in 
the alley. 

“His name ’s against him,” com- 
mented the nurse. “Was he 
always called Piggy?” 

“ He can’t come out here and 
go by any such name,” announced 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 

Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins, “so we 
may as well start calling him Peter 
Williams.” 

“Why, Ma!” began Hannah, 
but stopped suddenly as a palm leaf 
fan was sent whizzing in her 
direction. 

“ If his mother did n’t have sense 
enough to name him Peter, I ’ll do 
it for her,” finished Mrs. Mulvaney. 
“And I want you young ones to 
stop calling me ‘Ma’! You say 
Mother and Father, as you know 
is proper.” 

Hannah opened her mouth, but 
closed it again without making a 
sound. Broken leg or not, her 
mother might get out of bed and 
take a little Mulvaney across her 
knee if she dared to talk back. L . 

The following morning Hannah 
120 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


renewed her quest, this time ac- 
companied by the sympathetic 
twins. In vain they tramped all 
day. Not a farmers wife would 
think of boarding Peter Williams. 

“It is enough to make a liberty 
eagle cry!” grumbled Hannah, as 
the three wearily plodded along the 
dusty road. “ If Piggy — I mean 
Peter — wouldn’t be afraid and 
get scared,” she went on, “ he could 
live in our old house, the one we 
lived in when we first came to the 
country before Ma — Mother got 
married.” 

“ Everything in it is just the way 
we left it last Christmas morning ! ” 
said Nora. 

“Everything just as we left it,” 
echoed Dora. 

“ Let s look in the windows,” 


121 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Hannah suggested. “If only we 
were brave and could keep house 
alone,” she went on, “we could 
come here and live and board 
Piggy — Peter ourselves. I would 
be the housekeeper, and you two 
could take turns washing Piggy — 
Peter’s face and keeping wet cloths 
on his head.” 

Sitting on the porch of the de- 
serted house, the twins were given 
an idea 

“ Grandma Perkins ! ” exclaimed 
Nora. 

“ Grandma Perkins ! ” Dora ex- 
claimed at the same instant. 

“You twins make me laugh. 
What about Grandma Perkins ? ” 

“ She could live here.” 

“ Why, you dear little sisters, so 
she could. The very thing ! She 

123 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


will be glad to come, because she 
says she ’s one too many for Mr. 
Perkins to take care of, and of 
course she can be the one to get 
paid for taking care of Piggy — 
Peter. But — but, girls ! she ’ll 
have to have some money to come 
with.” 

“We ’ll send her our two silver 
dollars,” offered Nora. 

“And — and be her candle,” put 
in Dora. “ Both of us would make 
just one good light, don’t you see?” 

“ Oh, we ’ll be her candle,” agreed 
Nora. 

“ Let ’s go straight home and 
tell Ma — Mother,” Hannah ad- 
vised, springing to her feet and 
dancing down the path, weariness 
forgotten. 

“Time for me to be stirrin’ up 

123 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


my bonfire,” teased Chinkey, when 
the twins told him that their candle 
was lighted to guide the footsteps 
of dear Grandma Perkins into the 
country. 


124 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER XV 

CHINKEY GOES TO TOWN 


O' 


lUEER time for Christmas 
candles,” sniffed Chinkey, 
several days later. “Now, I tell 
you, it ’s a bonfire I ’ll light. Give 
us something warm and cheerful in 
August.” 

“Just the same, Chinkey Mul- 
vaney,” answered Nora, “Grand- 
ma Perkins wrote Ma — I mean 
Mother — the nicest letter you ever 
heard. Cousin Marguerite said it 
was beautiful.” 

“What was in it?” 

“ She said the light of our candle 
made her see lots of things clearer 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


than she did before, about how kind 
is our Father in Heaven and things 
like that, and if Peter Williams 
doesn’t grow up and be a good 
man, she ’s going to be disappointed 
in him.” 

“Peter Williams!” mocked 
Chinkey. “Ha, ha, ha! Peter!” 

“Yes, Peter,” chimed the twins. 

“Who could keep clean with 
Piggy for a name?” added Nora. 
“ Besides that, you did n’t used to 
be clean, even on Sunday, when 
we were poor folks too.” 

“Don’t speak of it,” begged 
Hannah. “We live in the country 
now, let’s talk about pleasant 
things. Mother says that two dol- 
lars is more than enough to buy the 
tickets for Grandma Perkins and 
Peter. 


126 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“Peter!” echoed Chinkey. 
“ Girls, don’t be surprised if I 
have a fit.” 

“You needn’t have a fit,” was 
Hannah’s rebuke, “ because, young 
man, somebody must go after 
Grandma Perkins.” 

“ How long since ?” demanded 
Chinkey. 

“ Ma — Mother just got the 
letter. Grandma Perkins says it ’s 
so long since she’s been on the 
cars she ’s afraid to come alone. I 
am sure I don’t want to go back 
to that alley because it makes 
me cry when I just think of those 
poor children, and Pa — Father 
says he is too busy to leave. We 
thought perhaps you would like to 
go to-morrow.” 

“ Like to ! ” exclaimed Chinkey. 

127 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“Go brush my Sunday suit! 
Won’t I have a lark!” — 

“ Chinkey — Ezra Jonathan 
Mulvaney,” Hannah began, “ if you 
go down to that alley and make 
fun of any of those poor children 
that you used to play with yourself 
when you were ragged and dirty 
and horrid, I’ll — I'll — ” 

“Punch my nose,” finished 
Chinkey. 

“ Y es, punch your nose,” agreed 
Hannah. “ N ow, Chinkey, promise 
that you ’ll be good.” 

“Aw — don’t ask too much of a 
feller. Y ou don’t want me to come 
home luggin’ Sloppy Wether with 
me, now, do you? You want to 
watch out, Hannah. If you go to 
saying too much, I might start up 
my candle, — my bonfire, I mean. 

128 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


It ain’t safe to talk a great deal 
before me about sad things. Now 
there ’s Sloppy Wether ! Oh, I *m 
so tender-hearted I — ” 

“You’re tho hard-hearted, you 
mean,” interrupted Stubbins, “ and 
I thay, come along, leth go and 
thail boath. I can’t keep thith 
young one out of Pa’th way, and 
Pa ith a little croth thith after- 
noon.” 

“ Pa cross, ba-by no like Pa,” 
commented Richard. “He say 
* Ba-by go ’way.’ Come, boy, sail 
boat.” 

At twilight Sally Brown, ac- 
companied by Miss Cornelia 
Randall, visited the little Mul- 
vaneys. 

“ We heard that Chinkey is go- 
ing to town in the morning,” said 

9 129 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Miss Randall; “so we, Sally and I, 
brought over this bunch of white 
roses for him to give away in 
the alley. Will you take it, 
Chinkey ? ” 

“If you’ll wrap it up in some- 
thing,” was Chinkey’s hesitating 
reply. 

“You can’t wrap flowers,” ob- 
jected Hannah. 

“No; but we can put them 
in a box,” Sally made haste to 
say. 

“ The very thing,” assented Miss 
Randall ; “ there’ s a large box 
Tom’s suit came in. It is big 
enough, so we won’t have to break 
the long stems of the roses. If 
one of the children will go home 
when we do, we’ll send you the 
box.” 

130 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“Look a-here!” exclaimed 
Chinkey the following morning. 
“Those kids won’t care for white 
roses. Now I say let’s chuck this 
box cram jam full of all kinds of 
posies, red and yellow and all 
colors; pansies and daisies and 
everything in the garden. I f I ’m 
going to carry this box anyway, it 
might as well be full. Light up 
your candles, Johnnie and Mike; 
posies will do for candle light when 
your brother Chinkey goes to 
town.” 

At the last moment, when every 
member of the household had given 
Chinkey a bit of parting advice, 
Hannah inquired, in anxious tones, 
what her brother intended to do 
with the flowers. 

“ Open up the box,” Chinkey 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


called back, “ and empty it in the 
road. Then I ’ll climb on a fence 
and watch the young ones fight 
over them. It will be a great 
scrap ! Whoop-ee 1 ” 


132 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER XVI 


A DIM CANDLE IN THE VALLEY 
OF THE SHADOW 



RANDMA PERKINS 


VT met Chinkey at the door. 
She was crying. 

“ Is — is Piggy worse?” the boy 
faltered. 

“ No,” was the reply. “ Piggy is 
all right, he has been up since day- 
light ; but — but there is another 
little fellow in the alley, Chinkey, 
who has been asking for you. He 
wishes to see you because you were 
born in the house where he lives. 
Will you go ? I so hoped you 
would come early, and I am glad 
133 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


you did, because the child has often 
begged to see you. Do say you ’ll 
go, Chinkey.” 

“It ’sthe little sick boy, isn’t it?” 
asked the child, “the one Hannah 
told us about. She gave him her 
fan.” 

“Yes; will you go, Chinkey?” 

The boy hesitated, awed by 
strange forebodings. 

“Is he any relation of yours, 
Grandma Perkins?” 

“No.” 

“Then why do you cry?” 

“ Because, Chinkey, that little 
soul is going out in darkness.” 

“ I wish we could take him to 
the country with us,” said the boy; 
“but — but — ” 

“ Oh, not that, Chinkey ; he 
will soon be in the Better Land,” 
134 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


interrupted Grandma Perkins, 
brushing away tears. 

“She means Heaven,” thought 
the boy, and more than ever he 
dreaded going into the “ Other 
Room,” the scene of so much 
sorrow in days gone by. 

“Will you go?” repeated 
Grandma Perkins in a choking 
voice. 

“ Is — is he going to die?” whis- 
pered Chinkey. 

“ Yes, although the doctor says 
he may live a week. It is pitiful, 
Chinkey, to see a mere babe like 
him so hard. I Ve talked and 
talked with him, but he says God 
is not good. His mother is broken- 
hearted. She tells me she has 
always been too busy to talk with 
her children about their souls, and 
135 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


now this baby — Oh, Chinkey! 
She has never even taken him to a 
park, and he has never seen grass 
growing except in little patches. 
Chinkey, will you go?” 

“ Y es,” answered the boy, mov- 
ing slowly down the steps, carrying 
the forgotten box. 

It was a still, hot day. Not 
a breath of air stirred. Ragged 
children were gathered in hushed 
groups over dilapidated gates and 
on broken-down doorsteps. They 
knew what no one had told 
Grandma Perkins. The little boy 
in the “ Other Room” was dying. 
No childish laughter rang through 
the alley that day, nor sound of 
quarrelling. The little folks waited 
to hear that one of their number 
was gone. 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Chinkey took off his hat and 
pushed back locks of damp, clus- 
tering hair as he walked slowly up 
the steps and into the house. Then 
he knew. 

The sick boy lay tossing on a 
small cot. His face was the only 
one Chinkey saw in the crowded 
room. Some one was sobbing 
bitterly. It seemed to Chinkey as 
if a strong hand clutched his throat 
when he felt the misery of that 
sound. The mother was weeping 
for her boy. Chinkey knew it. A 
man pushed him close beside the 
cot. 

“ This is Chinkey,” said the man; 
“you wished to see him, little 
one.” 

“Yes,” answered the boy, gazing 
upon Chinkey with strange bright 
137 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


eyes. “There ain’t no Heaven,” 
he said, and waited. 

“ Can you tell him there is a 
Heaven? ” whispered the man. 

Chinkey stood motionless, 
speechless. It was then he thought 
of his candle. Oh, if some one 
were there to tell that little boy 
about God and Heaven ! Mrs. 
Randall could do it, Mrs. Brown 
could do it. 

“ Where — where ’s the minis- 
ter?” gasped Chinkey. 

“ Right here, I ’m the minister,” 
said the man behind Chinkey. 
“He won’t believe me.” It seemed 
to Chinkey he ’d never heard tones 
so full of sadness. 

“There ain’t no Heaven,” in- 
sisted the baby, reaching for 
Chinkey’s sun-browned hand. 

138 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“There’s grass,” ventured the 
boy; and thus did the dim light of 
his candle begin to shine in that 
stifling room. “There’s birds, 
too,” Chinkey went on, and the 
mother hushed her sobbing. 
“ There is a blue sky and big green 
trees in the country, and at night 
when the stars come out you know 
there is a God in Heaven.” 

“ T ell more,” urged the dying 
baby. 

Chinkey slipped upon his knees 
beside the cot. They had begun 
to tremble so he could not stand. 
“ I live where I can see the cool 
grass and roll in it,” Chinkey went 
on, “and I hear the birds sing, 
God’s birds. And I look up and see 
the tops of the big, big trees against 
the sky where the stars are at night, 
139 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


and then I know there is a Heaven. 
And I pick flowers — armsful of 
God’s flowers.” 

“If I could even see God’s 
flowers — lots of them,” interrupted 
the baby, “ I would know there 
is a Heaven and I would want 
to go.” 

Chinkey began fumbling with 
the box by his side. 

“ Shall I open it ? ” asked the 
man. 

“If you please,” said Chinkey. 
“ I can’t see very well and my 
fingers are shaky.” 

Removing the cover, Chinkey 
lifted the box, then turned it wrong 
side up, letting the blossoms fall 
in a shower upon the cot. Snowy 
blooms drifted downward ; pansies, 
cool and fresh, dropped in the up- 
140 



“ QNOWY BLOOMS DRIFTED 
O DOWNWARD” 





































































































































. ' 





SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


turned hands of the baby ; crimson 
roses fell upon the floor and on the 
white pillow; the outlines of that 
tiny form were lost beneath the 
flowers. 

“If He made these flowers for 
me,” exclaimed the child, “ then I 
know there is a Heaven and I 
want to go.” 

Chinkey buried his head and 
sobbed aloud. He had never seen 
such joy as shone from the radiant 
face of the dying boy. 

“ My mother must n’t cry,” the 
little fellow went on; “can’t she 
see the flowers,— does n’t she 
know ? Chinkey, I will say my 
prayers now. Don’t cry, Chinkey,” 
besought the child; “you tell the 
prayer and I will say it. Grandma 
Perkins cried because I would n’t, 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


but I will now, Chinkey, because 
there is a Heaven.” 

Not a word from Chinkey, only 
broken sobs. The baby waited a 
moment ; then, laying a wasted 
hand upon Chinkey’s red hair, he . 
whispered, — 

“Tell it now.” 

“ Let the minister,” begged 
Chinkey. 

“ No, you. He would say a 
long one. I want to go to sleep.” 

“ ‘ N ow I lay me down to sleep,’ ” 
began Chinkey. 

Word for word the baby re- 
peated the line. 

Chinkey struggled with his 
memory; he could not recall the 
prayer Stubbins had so recently 
and so unwillingly learned. 

“ Go on,” urged the baby. 

142 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ ‘ I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to 
take,’ ” finished Chinkey, sure that 
he was wrong. 

“ My — soul — to — take — to 
Heaven.” 

The little boy smiled and closed 
his eyes. Chinkey never saw him 
again. He remembered groping 
his way to the street a few minutes 
later, and like a dream recalled 
what the man said when he left 
the “Other Room,” — 

“Chinkey, my lad, God bless 
you. The light came in time!” 


143 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER XVII 


AUNT MANDY 

HE little Mulvaneys were in 



1 the kitchen helping Cousin 
Marguerite make fudge. Only 
Chinkey was absent. 

“ Where is that boy ? ” inquired 
Cousin Marguerite. ■ . “ I ’ve called 
him from the north, east, south, and 
west.” 

“ Let him go,” advised Hannah. 
“He’s' cross as a bear lately, 
ready to bite your head off if you 
look at him. He’s sour as vine- 
gar. Even fudge wouldn’t make 
him sweet.” 

“ W onder what ails him ? ” N ora 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


inquired. “Grandma Perkins 
says she can’t imagine, unless he 
was so upset because that little 
boy died ; but I can’t see what that 
has to do with Chinkey.” 

“Nor I, either,” said Hannah. 
“ I guess he must have died hard, 
and Chinkey saw him or some- 
thing. I ’m sure I dbn’t know ! I 
tried to ask him about the little boy 
once, and Chinkey told me to shut 
up. He would n’t even tell Ma — 
Mother, and she did n’t make him, 
just said, ‘ Run out in the sunshine, 
my boy, and grow into a strong 
good man.’ ” 

“ Good man,” mocked N ora. 
“What did he do with his Christ- 
mas dollar? Bought fire-crackers 
with it! That’s what I call 
selfish.” 


10 


145 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“Aw, you think you ’re smart,” 
Mike interposed, “just because you 
and Dora gave up your dollar for 
Grandma Perkins. Me and J ohn- 
nie would have done that same 
thing without bragging about it 
afterwards.” 

“ Now who is smart,” was 
Nora’s retort, as she turned her 
back upon Mike and looked through 
the open window. ‘ Oh! oh!” she 
exclaimed, “here comes Chinkey 
on the run, grinning from ear to 
ear.” 

“Hide, everybody,” shouted 
Chinkey. “Get away from the 
window, every one of you, and duck 
your heads. Aunt Mandy is com- 
ing down the pike ! ” 

Chinkey burst into the room 
and sank in a breathless heap under 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


the table. The little brothers and 
sisters, giggling and bumping into 
one another, crowded into his 
retreat. 

Cousin Marguerite sat down and 
laughed at the sight of eight chil- 
dren huddled in so small a space. 

“Who is Aunt Mandy?” she 
asked. 

“ Y ou ’ll find out when you see 
her,” declared the big brother. 
“You won’t have to boil fudge 
more’n three seconds before you 
know.” 

“She’s Sloppy Wether’s Aunt 
Mandy,” Hannah explained, pok- 
ing her head from under the table. 
“ The children where we lived 
always made fun of her, and then 
we used to run and hide because 
we were afraid of her.” 

147 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“You ought to see the lady,” 
added Chinkey. “ She s got on a 
pink skirt and a blue waist and a 
straw hat with feathers sticking out 
of it every which way.” 

At that moment there was a 
sound of heavy footsteps on the 
porch and a loud knock at the 
dining-room door. 

“ Leave the kitchen door open,” 
whispered Chinkey, “ so we can 
hear the show.” 

Cousin Marguerite did as re- 
quested, and the children under 
the table overheard the following 
conversation. 

“ Does Mrs. Hodgkins live here, 
she that was Mrs. Mulvaney?” 

“Yes; do you wish to see her?” 

“Well now, what do you s’pose 
I got up before daylight for and 

148 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


rushed around to get the cars and 
then footed her out here through 
the hot sun and dust if I did n’t 
do it to see Mrs. Mulvaney ? Be 
you the hired help?” 

“ I ’m a cousin of the family.” 

“ Oh, you be? Can’t see as you 
favor Mrs. Mulvaney a mite. I ’ll 
step in.” 

“ Do, and have a rocker by the 
window. Mrs. Hodgkins met 
with an accident some time ago, 
broke her leg. Although she sits 
up, she can’t take a single step.” 

“ I want to know ! ” 

The children under the kitchen 
table were almost smothering with 
suppressed mirth when the nurse 
wheeled Mrs. Mulvaney into the 
cool dining-room. 

“Well now, ain’t you in luck!” 

149 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


remarked Aunt Mandy. ‘“The 
rich kin ride in chaises/ ’T ain’t 
much like old times, Mrs. Mulva- 
ney ! Do you mind the day — ” 

“ How is Sloppy Wether ? ” was 
the interruption. 

“It’s her that I came to talk 
about. She’s took bad. Can’t 
say as I know what ails her. She 
jest mopes around like Piggy Wil- 
liams did. Sets on the ground 
with her head on a box and won’t 
smile. She won’t eat a bite of 
what ’s set before her. You know 
I ’m scrub lady for the Dayton 
Block down town. So, thinking 
to perk the young one up, I takes 
her with me fer a hull day ; but it 
didn’t do no good. 

“It seems that nothing won’t 
do that Sloppy Wether but three 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


months in the country. She says 
she’ll die jest like that little boy if 
she stays there, and though she ’s 
a care to me and my man, it ain’t 
in either of us to want her to die. 
Now, Mrs. Mulvaney, seein’as how 
well fixed you are since you are 
married to a new man, I thought 
we’d give you our girl.” 

“ Why don’t you move into the 
country?” objected Mrs. Mulva- 
ney. “You and your husband 
could get work in the village, I 
am sure.” 

Aunt Mandy flared up at that. 
“Me in the country! A city-born 
lady like me! There ain’t money 
enough to tempt me to put up with 
frogs a-croakin’ at night, and livin’ 
in sech a out of the world place. 
They ’s some folks can’t be happy 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


’thout bein’ surrounded by Wattin' 
sheep and hens and a cow; but that 
ain’t me. Let me live where they ’s 
a phonygraph in the next block 
and folks movin’ all around me. 
They ain’t nothin’ in the country 
that I take to. 

“ Sloppy Wether is different. I 
see she ain’t long fer this world if 
something don’t happen. She’s 
peaked like and thin and mourn- 
ful. Seems to me and my man 
that death is a-starin’ her in the 
face.” 

Aunt Mandy stayed two hours, 
pouring her woes into the ears of 
Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins and 
Grandma Perkins, who called to 
see her old neighbor. In the 
mean time she ate fudge, country 
fudge, until the little Mulvaneys 

152 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


refused to pass the dish. Nor 
did Aunt Mandy object to country 
fruit and vegetables, but returned 
to the city at night carrying a well- 
filled basket in each hand. 


153 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER XVIII 

MIKE AND JOHNNIE DRAW 
CUTS 

“TT 7E can’t let that child die,” 
VV declared Mrs. Mulvaney, 
“ but it beats me to know what 
we’re going to do with her.” 

Grandma Perkins solved the 
problem. Less than twenty-four 
hours after Aunt Mandy returned 
to the city, she called to see the 
little Mulvaneys and their mother. 

“ I can take Sloppy Wether as 
well as not,” said she. “In fact, 
after that girl gets a breath of 
country air in her fate, she’ll 
freshen up all right and be just the 

I 54 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


help I ’m after in my new business. 
Yes, I ’m going into business, mend- 
ing bean bags for the bean factory 
or the bean packing house, what- 
ever you call it ! I went to see the 
superintendent this morning, and 
he ’ll give me all the work I want, 
and I can earn, so he says, from a 
dollar to two dollars a day. N ow, 
if you folks will send the little 
miss a ticket, she may come to- 
morrow.” 

“ Me and Johnnie’s got money.” 
Mike seized Grandma Perkins’ 
face in both dirty hands to call 
attention to the fact; whereupon 
Grandma Perkins kissed him. 

“ That’s one on you,” whispered 
J ohnnie, who hated kissing. 

“Now look a-here,” said 
Chinkey, “Mike and Johnnie 
15s 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


must draw cuts for Sloppy Wether. 
One of ’em ’s got to be her candle.” 

Quick as a flash Mike slipped 
to the floor and gave Chinkey a 
whack with his fist. 

“ Who you think you ’re talking 
to ? ” he puffed. “ You ’ll get it in 
the face next time if you don’t 
mind your business.” 

Johnnie immediately edged 
closer and closer to Chinkey from 
behind, hopping along sideways, 
like an enraged bantam rooster. 

“Take that!” he cried, deliver- 
ing what he intended to be a ter- 
rific blow. “We’ll pick out who 
we ’re going to be candles for with- 
out any help from you.” 

“ I can lick the two of you,” 
threatened Chinkey ; “so, if you ’re 
looking for trouble, just step in.” 

156 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Mike straightway became furi- 
ous. He was about to kick 
Chinkey, when Mother seized him 
by the shoulder and jerked him off 
his feet. 

“ Shame on you for bad boys,” 
she chided. “ What ’ll Grandma 
Perkins think ? Now you ’ve got 
to draw cuts. Get your slips of 
paper ready, Chinkey, and let them 
choose.” 

“ But — but we don’t want her,” 
blubbered Mike; “she can have 
our money, but who wants to be 
her candle ! ” 

“ Chinkey ’s afraid of her him- 
self,” wailed Johnnie. “She used 
to say to him, ‘ Take it back, take 
it back,’ and he took it back too. 
She’s a sassy girl and nobody 
likes her.” 


157 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ What of it?” interrupted Chin- 
key. “She’s got a immortal soul 
just the same, so come along and 
draw cuts. The one that gits the 
long paper gits Sloppy, because 
she ’s that long and thin you could 
tie her in a bow knot.” 

“ Oh, no, you could n’t,” wept 
Mike. “You couldn’t tie her in 
a bow knot any more ’n you 
could tie a burning pin wheel 
on the Fourth of July. Her 
arms and legs fly around so sur- 
prisin’.” 

“ Hush, hush, children,” com- 
manded Mrs. Mulvaney. “What 
an example you are setting before 
Stubbins and Richard ! ” 

“ Which hand ’ll you take ? ” 
asked Chinkey. 

“ Gimme this one,” pouted J ohn- 
158 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


nie, pointing toward Chinkey’s 
right hand. 

“He’s got it, he’s got 
it,” chuckled Mike, wiping his 
eyes and dancing around the 
room. 

“Boo-hoo,” roared Johnnie, 
“ I wanted to have my candle for 
somebody that was nice. Boo- 
hoo-hoo.” 

The following day Sloppy 
Wether arrived, bag and baggage. 
The bag was paper, and on leaving 
the city contained ten cents worth 
of gum drops from Aunt Mandy. 
A bundle tied in a blue handker- 
chief constituted her baggage. 

Mr. Hodgkins had consented to 
meet the child at the train, and 
Chinkey had been compelled to 
accompany him. 

159 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ There she is,” said Chinkey, 
keeping as much out of sight as 
possible. “That there grinnin’ 
scarecrow is Sloppy Wether.” 

“You mean that pert, elfish- 
looking individual ?” inquired Mr. 
Hodgkins. “ May the saints pre- 
serve us ! ” 

“Be you Mrs. Mulvaney’s sec- 
ond man?” asked the little girl 
on the approach of Mr. Hodg- 
kins and Chinkey. “ I want to 
know ! ” 

“Come,” urged Mr. Hodgkins, 
“we’re to take you to the doctor 
before we drive home.” 

“ Me to the doctor ! ” exclaimed 
Miss Wether. “ I ain’t goin’ a 
step.” 

“You’ve got to,” Chinkey de- 
clared. “ Ma says that maybe 

160 


















SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


you ’re coming down with some- 
thing that she does n’t want us to 
catch, so you ’ve got to come.” 

“ But I ain’t sick,” protested the 
girl. “ Be you crazy ? ” 

“Your Aunt Mandy said you 
were sick.” 

“Yes, but I got better on the 
train soon ’s the engine tooted.” 

“You always was thin as a soup 
bone,” remarked Chinkey, “and 
anyway, you ’ve got to come to the 
doctor. Ma said so.” 

Sloppy Wether had to be 
dragged into the presence of the 
village doctor. The physician 
shook his head so solemnly when 
Welcome Hodgkins stated her case 
and repeated the story told by 
Aunt Mandy, that Sloppy Wether 
became uneasy. 

n 161 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ I guess nothin’ much ails me,” 
she suggested. 

“ I guess not,” agreed the doctor. 
“ Mr. Hodgkins, this little girl is 
in perfect health. She is sound as 
a nut. There is positively noth- 
ing the matter with her. I think 
she merely wished to get into 
the country. Is that so, little 
girl?” 

Sloppy Wether nodded her 
head and grinned triumphantly. 
“ That there is right,” she agreed. 
“ I knew how to work Aunt 
Mandy.” 

“You hypocrite!” growled 
Chinkey. 

J ust before he went to sleep that 
night, Mike snuggled close to 
Johnnie and whispered, “Don’t 

feel bad about it any more, old 

162 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


man, I ’ll be her candle too. I 
won’t make you shine alone for her 
just because you got the long piece 
of paper.” 

“ I always knew,” added J ohnnie 
with a long-drawn sigh, — “I al- 
ways knew she was a hypocrick ! ” 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER XIX 


PREPARATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS 

HERE is more than one 



1 kind of candle-light. When 
Mike and Johnnie together shone 
upon Sloppy Wether’s pathway, 
the brilliancy was dazzling. I n the 
first place, the brothers decided 
that their home would be happier 
without so troublesome a neighbor. 
Inside of four months after her 
arrival, Sloppy Wether was travel- 
ling southward as the adopted 
daughter of a tin peddler and his 
wife. Mrs. Mulvaney had promptly 
called the girl Slopena; a name 
approved by the good-natured wife 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


of the peddler, Mr. Hank Belcher. 
Thus it was that, thanks to Mike 
and Johnnie, Sloppy Wether be- 
came Slopena Belcher, with a 
chance to grow up in fresh air 
and sunshine. 

Mrs. Mulvaney’s recovery was 
slow; but as weeks and months 
slipped by, the children noticed a 
great change in their mother’s life. 
It was not in vain that the nurse 
read aloud from the volume of 
political economy. There was 
nothing between the covers of 
the book that Mrs. Mulvaney 
understood, but the tones of Miss 
Elson’s voice soothed the woman. 
Unconsciously Mrs. Mulvaney 
Hodgkins formed the habit of 
speaking in a gentler way. She 
was tenderness itself in all her deal- 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


ings with Baby Richard. She 
seemed never happier than with his 
sunny head resting on her shoulder. 
There were times, to be sure, when 
Johnnie was reminded that his 
mother wore slippers and that small 
boys needed spankings; but the 
seven Mulvaneys no longer dodged 
if their mother stooped to pick up 
a pin. 

Cousin Marguerite promised to 
extend her visit until the New 
Y ear, which reconciled the children 
to the loss of the nurse. 

Grandma Perkins lived happily 
with Peter Williams in the house 
so many years deserted, and, thanks 
to the bag-mending industry, there 
was always a young Perkins from 
the city to be a playmate for Peter. 

Chinkey was never the same 

1 66 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


after his visit to the alley. Neither 
was Hannah; but she talked all 
summer about what she would like 
to do for the O’Tooles, Goldy 
Jenkins, and many another, while 
Chinkey said nothing until one day 
in October. 

“ Let ’s get up a Christmas tree 
and invite all the children we 
know,” he said. 

“ Rather early to think about 
Christmas, isn’t it?” inquired 
Cousin Marguerite. 

“ N ot if you belong to a family 
of Christmas Candles,” laughed 
Chinkey. “With Christmas can- 
dles time is always reckoned this 
way — it ’s either before Christmas 
or after Christmas. Just now it’s 
before, and candles must begin to 
think about shining. I thought 

167 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


about it all the time I was picking 
potato bugs for a cent a hundred — 
that was too cheap — and selling 
Mother huckleberries at the ridicu- 
lous sum of two cents a quart.” 

From that hour began prepara- 
tions for a Christmas celebration 
in the home of Grandma Perkins. 
Stubbins sold his pig, the one that 
could n’t be taught to do tricks. 
The twins sold their calf, Hannah 
parted with her colt, while Mike 
and J ohnnie marketed their turkeys 
to swell the Christmas fund. 

The first week in December the 
children began stringing popcorn. 

“We must have yards and yards 
and yards,” said Hannah ; “it isn’t 
a bit too early to think about 
decorations.” 

One evening soon after, when 

168 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


the children were making merry in 
the big kitchen, J udge Belding and 
his daughter called at the farm- 
house and asked to see the little 
folks. 

“We have heard of your Christ- 
mas plans through Sally Brown,” 
explained the young lady, “ and it 
doesn’t seem fair to allow one 
family to have so much pleasure. 
Don’t you think you are selfish not 
to invite the whole village to help 
entertain the alley children ? It is 
exactly what we should all enjoy.” 

There was an awkward pause. 
The grown folks did n’t know what 
to say. Chinkey nudged Hannah. 

“ T ell her there is n’t room,” he 
whispered. 

“You see, Miss Belding,” ven- 
tured Hannah, “ Grandma Perkins’ 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


house is too small for so many. 
We’ll have to squeeze the alley 
children in, and then we can’t have 
them all in the same room with 
the Christmas tree.” 

This objection was met with a 
smile. 

“We thought of that,” Miss 
Belding went on, “ and if you 
children will say yes, the celebration 
shall be in the schoolhouse. We ’ve 
seen the trustees and your teacher, 
Miss Randall. They’re enthusi- 
astic on the subject. Mrs. Randall 
offered to lend her piano for the 
occasion, the Mandolin Club will 
furnish music, and the Cinderella 
Club have offered to give a beauti- 
ful Christmas play in three acts. 
We’ll have a Christmas dinner 
for those children and a tree that 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


will reach to the ceiling. What do 
you say ? ” 

“ Yes ! Oh, yes ! H ow lovely ! 
Won’t it be fun ! ” chorused the 
little Mulvaneys. 

“ Then the next thing,” contin- 
ued Miss Belding, “is for you to 
furnish us with a list of the chil- 
dren’s names and their ages. We ’re 
not going to do this thing by halves. 
We’ll have a Christmas, Stubbins, 
that you’ll remember when you ’re 
a man.” 

“ I ’m tho glad, Mith Belding, 
becauthe Chrithmath ith the betht 
time in the year.” 

“We think so too, and every 
man in the village will be glad to 
put gifts on that tree.” 

“There will be at least thirty 
children to invite,” Mrs. Mulvaney 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Hodgkins seemed thinking aloud. 
“ Thirty children and their mothers 
and fathers.” 

“ It would be dreadful to leave 
one out,” interrupted Chinkey, “and 
if nobody cares I believe I better 
go myself and do the inviting and 
write down the names.” 

“Good idea,” approved Wel- 
come Hodgkins. “You better go 
to-morrow. There’s no time to 
lose.” 

Arrangements were quickly 
made for Chinkey’s second trip to 
the city. When he left the alley 
to return home the following after- 
noon, smiling faces and shouts of 
glee followed his retreat. 


172 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER XX 

A LIST FOR SAINT NICHOLAS 

C HIN KEY sprang up the 
steps of the farmhouse by 
leaps and bounds. In a moment 
he was surrounded by brothers and 
sisters who asked six questions at 
the same time. 

“ Can’t hear a word you say,” pro- 
tested Chinkey, flourishing above 
his head a bunch of scribbled 
paper. 

“You don’t mean to tell us, 
young man,” Cousin Marguerite 
edged in, — “ you don’t mean to tell 
us that you have nothing but names 
written on all those sheets.” 

173 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“Names,” repeated Chinkey, 
“ names that will make the com- 
mittee hustle, I ’ll tell you.” 

“ Did you go out in the highways 
and byways to invite your guests ? ” 

“No, I stuck to the alley, and I 
did n’t have any time to spare, 
either, because I told every little 
youngster in the alley to speak up 
and tell me what he wanted Santa 
Claus to bring. Maybe I did n’t 
have some fun.” 

Chinkey threw his head back 
and laughed as if he thought that 
one of the biggest jokes in the 
world. The children, Cousin Mar- 
guerite, and Mr. Hodgkins fol- 
lowed his example. 

“Wish I ’d been there,” mur- 
mured H annah. “ H ow many folks 
are coming?” 


174 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“ Only thirty-one children and 
nineteen relations,” was the reply, 
“ but those thirty-one children will 
keep Santa Claus busy and don’t 
you forget it. Listen to Patsy 
Regan’s list He wants eleven 
books and a bird cage.” 

“Is that all? ” 

“ No ; listen. A stick pin, a watch, 
a rubber coat, rubber boots, a train 
of cars, a bottle of perfumery, and 
a rocking-horse. Patsy is eight 
years old. His sister Katie wants 
a pink dress and a blue parasol. 
Han, I wish I could have seen that 
blue parasol of yours. Just about 
half of the silly girls wanted blue par- 
asols. At last I told them that Santa 
Claus was just out of that particu- 
lar color, and if you will believe it, 
Effie Adams cried so the committee 
17s 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


must give her one sure. And blue 
sashes ! and hats trimmed with 
roses ! Those girls made me laugh ! 
I got slapped once because I said 
to Belle Cutler, ‘ All right, honey 
dear, old sweetness shall have her 
sash.’ She was mad as a hornet. 

“ You see I can’t forget the time 
we wrote letters to Santa Claus ; so 
I urged the boys not to be bashful, 
but to speak up and tell me every- 
thing they wanted. Wiggy Mooler 
asked for twenty-seven different 
things. Wasn’t he modest? 

“Will you write this list over 
again, Cousin Marguerite? I’m 
afraid the committee would n’t 
understand all the spelling.” 

“ Indeed I will, Chinkey, and I 
think you did a good day’s work.” 

“ Got something to show for it, 

176 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


anyway,” chuckled the boy. “ And 
I can tell Miss Randall that getting 
up lists for Santa Claus is more 
fun than writing compositions.” 

“ What names,” observed Cousin 
Marguerite, reading aloud. 
“Here’s Hitty Marvin!” 

“ Her name,” Hannah explained, 
“is Mehitable, and they call her 
Hitty for short. You can’t help 
what your name is, though. Now, 
why did Mother call me Hannah? 
It’s such a homely name.” 

“ I thought so once,” said Cousin 
Marguerite, giving the child a lov- 
ing squeeze, “ but since I ’ve known 
you, my feelings have changed 
about Hannah. You are like the 
cabbage rose, little girl. The rose 
is so beautiful, who thinks of its 
name?” 


1 77 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


CHAPTER XXI 

BY THE LIGHT OF SEVEN CANDLES 

M RS. HODGKINS was 
so busy, the day before 
Christmas, that the cat scooted 
every time he saw her coming. 
Stubbins tried to keep out of her 
way, but he was n’t a bit more 
successful than Mike, who bumped 
into his mother at least six times in 
one hour. 

“ I almotht feel ath if I ought to 
thpankyou, Mike,” whispered Stub- 
bins, when together they picked 
up a cupful of raisins one of them 
spilled on the floor. 

“ I guess you ’ll have to if any- 

178 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


body does,” was Mikes reply. “ I 
wonder what ’s the reason Ma never 
spanks any more.” 

“ Oh, I th’pothe we ’re tho good 
now’dayth, but come to think of it 
there wath a time when it wathn’t 
thafe to thpill raithinth.” 

“ There were n’t any raisins to 
spill, Stubbins, when Ma was the 
suddenest spanker in the alley.” 

“ No, Mawath n’t making minthe 
pieth in thothe dayth for a Chrith- 
math party.” 

“ Come, come, children,” urged 
Mrs. Mulvaney Hodgkins, “get 
out from underfoot. Marguerite 
or I may step on you.” 

“We’ll hurry, Ma,” answered 
Stubbins, “but nobody ith afraid. 
We know you would thep eathy.” 

“ Oh, you should see the school- 
179 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


house,” exclaimed Hannah, bursting 
into the kitchen like a wind-blown 
fairy. 

“ Close the door, close the door,” 
urged her mother. “Don’t you 
know it is a cold day ? Dear me, 
what a breeze you brought in.” 

“ Buttheschoolhouse!” Hannah 
went on, warming her chilled fin- 
gers by the fire. “ Y ou can’t see a 
blackboard ! Every one of them 
is covered by evergreens ! I went 
behind the curtain to see the tree. 
I counted fifteen dolls, and the 
presents are piled up high as 
the snow-drifts between here and 
the barn. They have taken every 
one of the schoolhouse seats away, 
and in the middle of the room 
are three long tables set all ready 
for the Christmas dinner. 

180 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“And, Mother! I heard Mrs. 
Belding and some other ladies 
laughing about the dinner. They 
say it won’t be a proper Christmas 
dinner at all, but they are glad they 
listened to you because they know 
the children will enjoy it.” 

“ Did n’t I say your mother was 
right?” interrupted Cousin Mar- 
guerite. “ Those alley children 
will see on that table what most 
boys and girls have distributed 
through the year. It was lovely 
of your mother to insist on having 
a birthday cake with blazing candles 
on each table. The Perkins chil- 
dren are the only ones who ever 
saw a birthday cake before.” 

“And gingerbread men and 
animal cookies and gingersnap 
stars!” Hannah continued. “And 

181 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


tarts, and jelly turned out of fancy 
moulds. Why, there are as many 
as twenty wiggly raspberry jell 
rabbits with cloves for eyes ! And, 
oh, Mother! peach pickles with 
faces made on them with cloves. 
I walked all around the tables 
and laughed every step of the 
way. 

“ Such frosted cakes I did n’t 
suppose anybody ever made. The 
baker sent three Santa Claus cakes, 
and there stands Santa Claus, 
pack and all, made out of frosted 
cake, and he made cakes in shapes 
like houses with brown chocolate 
roofs and red candy chimneys. 

“ The ’freshment committee have 
put everything on the tables except 
the turkey and potato and such 
things. If I were not myself, I 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


would wish I were Hitty Marvin, 
because — won’t she be astonished ! ” 

“So the feast is spread!” ex- 
claimed Mr. Hodgkins, helping 
himself to a saucer mince pie. “ I 
feel like a boy again.” 

“ Oh, but when the children get 
off the cars and hear the sleigh 
bells jingle,” Nora danced as she 
talked, “oh, won’t they think 
they’re dreaming! Give the 
sleigh bells an extra jerk, Father, 
after the train stops, so they’ll 
be sure to hear. It will be like 
the silver bells of fairyland to 
them ! ” 

“ Horns in Fairyland,” Dora 
corrected. 

“Horns, then, who cares — 
it ’s Christmas ! ” 

No one thought of the curious 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


clothing worn by the guests from 
the alley. The most critical girl 
on the reception committee saw 
only the joy beaming from thirty- 
one radiant faces. 

At first the children were quiet 
as they took the places given them 
at the table, but under the influence 
of seven little Mulvaneys and baby 
Richard, they began to talk. When 
the guests had eaten until they 
could eat no more, Hannah, Chin- 
key, and the twins passed large 
paper bags to each, including the 
fathers and mothers. 

“You are requested to help the 
committee empty the dishes,” the 
minister said, “ and that means that 
the ladies will cry if there is a 
single cooky or bit of cake or pie 
left on the table.” 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


After some urging from Mrs. 
Hodgkins and her children, turkey 
and all disappeared into the bags. 

Tables were quickly removed, 
and the children formed in line for 
a grand march, led by Hannah 
Mulvaney. Miss Randall played 
the piano. 

“The gayest music you know,” 
Marguerite Hodgkins suggested; 
and although no one thought to 
invite her, she joined in the march, 
and a moment later a dozen of her 
friends were in line. 

“The next thing is games,” 
Hannah announced, when her old 
playmates had marched until they 
began skipping from sheer hap- 
piness. 

For an hour the children played 

London Bridge, Snap-and-Catch- 
185 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


’em, Drop-the- Handkerchief, Old 
Witch, Ring-Around-a-Rosy, 
Happy is the Miller, and other 
favorites. 

Many of them glanced toward 
the curtain from time to time and 
wondered what was behind it, but 
even Belle Cutler was too polite on 
that occasion to ask a question. 

Once during the play hour Sally 
Brown caught Stubbins and said, 
as she gave him a hug: 

“And what did Stubbins get for 
Christmas?” 

“Why, thith — thith Chrithm th 
party.” 

“ But I mean, what presents did 
Santa Claus bring to you your- 
self ? ” 

“To mythelf, to me mythelf. I 
didn’t thought about mythelf. I 

1 8(5 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


got your tag, Thally Brown; now 
thee if you can run ath fatht ath I 

ff 

can. 

The romping children were quiet 
the instant Judge Belding rapped 
for attention. 

“ Little folks will please come to 
the front,” he said. “It is now 
time to arrange the chairs and 
benches.” 

When the audience was seated, 
the judge explained that a long 
program had been provided, but as 
the city guests must return to the 
station before ten o’clock, it had 
been decided to distribute the gifts 
before instead of after the enter- 
tainment. 

Christmas carols were sung by 
the village choir; then the curtain 

was drawn aside, revealing the tree. 

187 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


Those alley children screamed 
with delight, and several minutes 
passed before quiet was restored. 
Chinkey was more excited than 
his guests when he discovered that 
every gift on his Saint Nicholas 
list was forthcoming. The tree 
blossomed with blue parasols. 
Wiggy Mooler received twenty- 
seven parcels by actual count. 

An hour later, when Judge 
Belding looked at the clock, he 
shook his head. “ The Christmas 
play by the Cinderella Club will 
have to be omitted,” he told his 
wife, “ but we must have the tab- 
leau. Tell Hannah to get her 
family together.” 

No one had mentioned a tableau 
to the little Mulvaneys; so they 
were much surprised when the 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


curtain was once more drawn and 
they found themselves behind it 
with Miss Belding. 

“ N ow do exactly as I tell you 
and don’t be frightened,” she said, 
grouping them on the platform ; 
“you are to be in a tableau.” 

“ What ’s a tableau, and why are 
they putting the lights out ?” asked 
Mike. “ It ’s getting dark.” 

“ Hush,” advised the young lady. 
“Don’t move a finger — look 
straight ahead. Now listen.” 

In the darkness, for the last 
light went out as the curtain was 
lifted, the children heard Judge 
Belding say: 

“The closing number of our 
program is a tableau entitled 
‘ Seven Christmas Candles.’ ” 

Suddenly the little Mulvaneys 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


on the platform were enveloped in 
a misty red light. It was the most 
wonderful scene ever witnessed by 
the alley visitors, if there is any 
meaning in suppressed murmurs of 
astonishment The tiniest chil- 
dren squealed their appreciation. 
As the glow faded away, some one 
began playing softly, and a dozen 
village children clustered around 
the piano sang : 

“Jesus bids us shine with a clear, pure light, 

Like a little candle burning in the night. 

In this world of darkness we must shine, 

You in your small corner and I in mine.” 

“Thereth another verth,” Stub- 
bins reminded the singers in a 
whisper so loud it was heard all 
over the room. 

“ Hush,” cautioned Miss Beld- 
ing; as she spoke, seven big candles 

190 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


began to shine dimly from out the 
darkness. 

“ Ma ith thitting down near the 
table where thothe candleth are,” 
sounded another loud whisper. 

This almost caused the singers 
by the piano to laugh aloud, and 
there were strange quavers in their 
voices as they struggled through 
the second part of the song: 

“Jesus bids us shine first of all for Him. 

Well He sees and knows it if our light is dim. 
He looks down from Heaven to see us shine, 
You in your small corner and I in mine.” 

It happened that the light of the 
seven candles, growing brighter 
and brighter every moment, shone 
full upon the face of Mrs. Mul- 
vaney. Her head rested on 
Richard’s soft hair, and her arms 
encircled the sleeping child. 


SEVEN CHRISTMAS CANDLES 


“Oh,” again whispered Stub- 
bins, “ our mother looks like a-a 
angel ! our mother ! ” 

“She does!” exclaimed Hannah 
in an awed whisper, as she listened 
to the soft tones of the piano; “with 
that light shining around her she 
looks as if she were really Cousin 
Marguerite’s Madonna come to 
life ! ” 

Like children in a dream story, 
the little Mulvaneys went home 
that night and were tucked in bed 
by their mother. She kissed 
Stubbins. 

“Don’t open your eyeth,” cau- 
tioned the surprised child, “becauthe 
thuppothe we’d wake up and it 
wathn’t true!” 


THE END 


























I 












